Galatea, Chevalier d'Internet
by YT1
Summary: A heavily revised version of my first ReBoot fic, written in 2002. Takes place between Seasons 3 and 4. A malfunctioning Game brings a virus and a strange sprite to Mainframe.
1. Introduction and Acknowledgements

_Galatea, Chevalier d'Internet_  
A Season 3 _ReBoot_ fic by YT

This fic takes place between the end of Season 3 and the beginning of Season 4. It has gone though a major revision since I first wrote it in early 2002.

_ReBoot_and all its associated characters and locations are the property of Mainframe Entertainment. I am just borrowing them. Also, I am not trying to make money off this, so please don't sue me. Thank you.

My time system is as follows:

1 cycle 1 second  
1 nanosecond 1 minute  
1 millisecond 1 hour  
1 second 1 day  
1 minute 1 week  
1 hour 1 month  
1 day 1 year

And my distance system:

1 nanometer 1 centimeter  
1 micrometer 1 meter  
1 millimeter 1 kilometer

I would like to thank Val and Alryssa (of the ReBoot Mayhem boards) for their help, support and service as editors.

Now, on to the story…


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Unexpected Guests

The newborn Absorber virus floated through the roiling chaos of the Web, seeking something to feed on. It had been released a few seconds ago, by a User with a mischievous mind, vast knowledge of computer programming and too much spare time.t But it didn't know any of these things. It knew only that it was _hungry_.

As yet, it had found no suitable prey. It was still hunting for a system to descend upon. Its attention was suddenly drawn to something nearby; a surge of energy. Moving quickly, it found the source of the surge — a Game about to be downloaded into a system. To the virus, it was an open door. _Good. _

_Find food here_, it concluded. It moved into the center of the coalescing Game, and went with it as it descended into an unsuspecting system…

"_Warning: incoming Game. Warning: incoming Game._" The alarm caught Bob by surprise. He jumped and banged his head on the underside of his car hood. It was the first time that he had worked on the engine since he got back home: before now, other issues had kept him too busy for old hobbies.

Rubbing his head at the site of impact, he withdrew from under the car's hood and dashed to the lift. As always, he feared that he was going to miss the cube — an irrational fear, but he couldn't help it.

As soon as the lift touched down and the doors opened, he ran outside and took a flying leap into the air — one of the perks of merging with Glitch was that he had no need for a zipboard. Bob continued to ascend as he flew towards the Game cube, which fortunately was just at the edge of Kits Sector. Matrix zipboarded up from below and pulled alongside Bob. A quick backward glance let him see that AndrAIa was not far behind.

"And I thought it was going to be a slow second," Matrix remarked just before the three sprites slipped beneath the Game cube.

They found themselves standing on a wide rock ledge in front of a cave. The ledge was scraped and scored — by what, Bob was not sure. Looking around, he discerned that they were on a lone mountain that stood in the middle of a forest. There were other mountains far in the distance.

"What's this Game?" Matrix asked. "I don't think I've seen it before."

"Hold on a nano." Bob closed his eyes for a few moments, using Glitch's senses to feel the flow of the Game code and find its stats. "This game is called 'Here There Be Dragons.' We're on the final level. The User has to get into this cave behind us," - he indicated it with a wave of his hand - "to retrieve a magical crown and win. Sounds pretty straightforward." Bob looked at the ground and tapped it with his foot. "Dragons," he muttered. "I guess that explains the claw marks."

"We'd better try and stay out of the cave, then," Matrix said as he reached for his icon. "Reboot!" There was a weak green flicker around him, but otherwise nothing happened. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "What's going on?"

"Try it again," AndrAIa suggested. Matrix did, with the same result. AndrAIa tried to reboot, without success.

"I'll try it," Bob said. He got the same results. He closed his eyes again, as he had when getting the Game stats, and tried to _feel_ what was wrong. Now that he was examining more closely, he could find what was amiss.. He opened his eyes and addressed his companions. "The Game hasn't loaded properly," he announced, his voice grim. "We can't download anything from it, which means…"

"Shh!" AndrAIa interjected, a hand cupped around one of her pointed ears. "Someone's coming! I think it's the User!"

From the narrow path on their left, a golden-armored figure appeared. Bob instinctively checked to see where its icon was. It was high on the sprite's breastplate, a golden circle with some kind of long-necked bird engraved on it. AndrAIa had been right: only Users had icons like that.

The User was armed with a longsword and a kite-shaped golden shield. Since Bob, Matrix and AndrAIa hadn't rebooted, the User wouldn't register their presence. And the Game wouldn't either, which meant they were unable to defend themselves. If the built-in sprites failed to defeat the User — and Bob had yet to see any - they would be nullified.

As if this weren't bad enough, the ground began to shake. The User lost its balance and fell over, while Bob and his friends struggled to keep their feet. Bob wondered if this was part of the Game. AndrAIa put her hands over her ears and shut her eyes. "Something's gone very wrong!" she shouted. _Tell me something I don't know, _Bob thought. By now it was obvious to everyone that there was some kind of serious error - the User and the Game itself began to melt and stretch. Suddenly there was a noise like static, which steadily increased in volume, as the earthquake increased in intensity.

"This is bad," Bob shouted over the noise of static and earthquake. "Very bad…"

"_Warning: Game runtime error. Warning: Game runtime error,_" the system voice said calmly. _Oh, no_. Runtime errors of any kind were almost always fatal.

The Game exploded in a mass of pixels, which resovled into the energy-crackling purple of a Game cube. A terrible, searing pain overwhelmed Bob. _I wonder if this is what it's like to be nullified…_

"Bob? Bob? Are you all right? Say something!" Dot's voice dragged him back into consciousness. He opened his eyes and groaned. Dot was leaning over him, a concerned expression on her face. "What happened in there? I got here just after the Game cube came down. There was some kind of an error, and the Game sort of disintegrated before it got back out of the system."

"I…I don't know," Bob said. He sat up, with Dot's help. He didn't hurt anymore, but he felt dizzy. Much to his distress, he saw several CPU craft and two ambulances nearby. "Is everyone all right?" He noticed that none of the lights in the nearby buildings were on — the Game error must have disrupted the energy flow to the sector. "It was a runtime error," he said.

"We're fine over here," he heard Matrix say behind him. He turned and saw that the big sprite was already on his feet, none the worse for wear. "And everything else seems to be okay, too. Whatever happened to that Game, it doesn't seem to have done any damage, other than this blackout. Seems we were lucky this time."

"Bob, there's something you should see," he heard AndrAIa call off to his left. Her voice was half fascination and half concern. Matrix went over to her: Bob stood up and, accompanied by Dot, went to see what the matter was.

Dot gasped in astonishment, and Bob rubbed his eyes to make sure they weren't playing tricks on him.

At their feet, lying facedown as it had fallen in the Game, was the User. Matrix bent down and carefully turned it over so that it was lying on its back. "Hey," he said. "Its icon is different."

Indeed it was — the golden circle of the User's icon was set in a triangle, like AndrAIa's Game sprite icon.

"We had better take its weapons before it wakes up," Matrix suggested. "There's no telling what it'll do." Bob agreed, and reached for its shield as Matrix took hold of the sword.

Suddenly, the User sat up with a jerk, nearly giving Bob a second knock on the head. It pulled its sword and shield away from the sprites and scrambled backwards before getting to its feet — an impressive maneuver, considering that it was weighed down with all that armor.

"I will not let you demons take my possessions," it said, its voice somewhat muffled and tinny due to the helmet. "And I strongly resent being referred to as 'it.'"

"We're in trouble," Bob said, straightening up and holding out his hands in preparation for an energy blast. Matrix pulled out Gun and prepared to fire as the User assumed a battle stance…

None of them noticed the shadowy mass hiding in an alley nearby. The virus watched the Sprites and the User, contemplating whether it should feed on one of them. It was not a very intelligent creature, but it wasn't stupid either. _Too strong. Not fight them yet. Later. _It slithered off into the shadows, looking for some weaker dataform to attack.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Culture Shock

They were at an impasse. Matrix had Gun pointed at the User, which was holding its sword at the ready. The renegade and the User eyed each other warily — and the (\/) in Matrix's gold eye was glowing red. Although all the sprites knew that this was a bad sign, the User didn't.

"I know not what you are," came the User's voice from his helmet, "But I demand that you return me to my kingdom immediately, or face the consequences."

"You're in no position to make demands," Matrix growled. "Put the sword down or I'll shoot."

"With what?" the User retorted mockingly. "Thou hast naught to shoot with!"

AndrAIa was confused for a moment, and not just because of the User's way of speaking. _Nothing to shoot with?_ Then it dawned on her. "Matrix," she said softly, "It doesn't know what a gun is — it's never seen one before! Maybe we should try something else."

"Like what?" Matrix asked through clenched teeth, not taking his eyes off the User.

AndrAIa had no time to reply. The User raised his sword and rushed at Matrix, who reflexively pulled the trigger Gun. "_No!_" AndrAIa cried as the shot flew.

But Matrix hadn't been aiming at the User. His shot hit the upraised sword, which then flew out of the User's hand and landed on the ground. It spun gratingly against the concrete before coming to rest a few micrometers away. The User, deprived of its weapon, skidded to a halt. AndrAIa sighed with relief.

"What magic is this?" the User cried. It went for its sword, but stopped when Matrix aimed Gun at him again.

"Uh-uh," he said. "Now you see I _do_ have something to shoot with. So stay away from that sword, or next time it'll be your head."

The User paused, weighing the situation, and clenched a mailed fist at Matrix. "I shall not surrender to the likes of thee," it said.

AndrAIa sighed. This wasn't going well.

"Look," Bob broke in, trying to calm the User. He placed himself in Matrix's line of fire. "We don't know how you ended up here. We didn't bring you here. But if you'll trust us, maybe we can help you."

"_Help_ it?" Matrix exclaimed. "But it's a…"

The User dropped its shield, put its hands up to his helmet and took it off, revealing…

"Not _it_ - _she_," Dot observed.

Now that the helmet was off, there was no doubt that the User was female. She had a pinkish-white, oval-shaped face with a short, straight nose, a full-lipped mouth and a pair of dark-blue eyes. Her dark-brown hair was gathered in a bun at the back of her head. She arched an eyebrow at Dot. _Definitely not a regular sprite,_ AndrAIa thought to herself. _No sprite I know of has skin that color outside of the Games._

"I'm a what?" the User asked. Her voice, without the muffling of the helmet, was clear, haughty and even. When Matrix, his jaw gaping, failed to answer her, she turned to look at Bob. "What art _thou?_ A knight, surely, judging by thine armor. But I know not thy crest."

"Err…" Bob was confused by this unexpected turn of events. "I'm a Guardian. And these are my friends." He indicated the other sprites with a sweep of his hand.

"Guardian?" A grin spread across the face of the User. "Ah! Then I see that my initial impressions were wrong. Brother, if they be friends of thine, then they are friends of mine as well." She turned to Matrix. "Please put down thy weapon, sir. I apologize for my behavior. Thou hast my word of honor that I shall do thee no harm."

Matrix looked at Bob, who nodded. He slowly lowered Gun, then let it holster itself at his hip. "I don't understand," he said. "How do you know what a Guardian is?"

The User drew herself up proudly. "Because I," she said, "am also a Guardian."

The lights in the buildings around them flickered to life again.

The virus slithered through the shadowy alleys of level 31. This was a perfect place for it, for the time being. There were many convenient hiding places, and lots of food.

It had already drained energy from two binomes, but it was still hungry. It slithered up to a dumpster, then checked around to see if anyone was around. It sensed something approaching.

Flattening itself out, it slid under the dumpster and waited. The footsteps came nearer, and then it could percieve a pair of feet. A binome was standing right in front of the dumpster, about to open its lid. The virus stayed still for a moment, savoring the thrill of the hunt…

Then it flowed from beneath the dumpster like an oil slick with a bad attitude, washing over the binome from its feet to the top of its head before he could scream. It began to feed, draining energy from its hapless victim, feeling itself grow stronger. The binome initially struggled in its attacker's grip, but subsided as it lost first its energy and then its consciousness. The virus did not drain enough energy from the binome to delete it — the last dregs of energy were not worth the effort.

When it was satiated, it slipped off the binome and slithered away, over a wall and into another alley, leaving its prone victim flickering on the ground.

"But how can you be a Guardian?" Bob asked. "You don't have a Guardian icon. You're a User. I think." By now a crowd of binomes had gathered around to observe the goings-on. The CPU forces held them back at a safe distance.

"I am not a User, whatever that may be," she insisted. "I am Galatea, of the Order of Guardians, sworn to defend against evil and help innocents in their time of need."

"Oh," Bob said. "I get it! You're a Guardian in the Game."

"Say again?" Galatea looked perplexed. "What Game?"

AndrAIa leaned over to whisper in Bob's ear. "She didn't know what Matrix's gun was. She doesn't know what a Guardian is — well, not your kind of Guardian, anyway. I don't think she even knows what a Game is."

"Umm…" Bob pondered what to say next. "I'm afraid I'm not the same kind of Guardian as you are." Galatea looked distressed. Thinking quickly, Bob added, "But I do the same thing. Sort of. My function is to mend and defend."

This seemed to mollify Galatea. "Well, then, thou'rt still a knight or paladin, an thou dost speak truly. And I do not think I have any choice but to trust thee." Galatea looked at the sprites. "Perhaps thou canst introduce me to thy companions?" she suggested. Bob understood from the tone of her voice that she was as nervous as the rest of them — perhaps more so.

"Oh." Bob said. "Okay. My name is Bob. I'm the Guardian of Mainframe — this system. These are Dot, the AndrAIa, and Matrix." Galatea nodded to each of them in turn. Dot and AndrAIa responded with friendly smiles, but Matrix only crossed his arms and glowered.

"And there is someone else I would like you to meet," Bob said,"Over there." He pointed towards the Principal Office.

Several nanoseconds later, Galatea was in a small roon in the medlab at the Principal Office, having been transported there by a CPU. She had removed her suit of armor, which was laid out on the floor in a corner of the room. She wore what she'd had on under the armor — a grey-brown tunic, jerkin and leggings, with a pair of soft brown boots. AndrAIa had shown her how to remove her icon from her armor and pin it to her clothes. She had apparently not known that such a thing was possible.

Bob, over Matrix's protests, had returned her sword to her. The scabbarded weapon sat on the exam bed beside her.

Phong had been busy assessing the effects of the Game, so they spent some time waiting for him. Matrix, AndrAIa and Frisket stood outside the door — they didn't want Galatea wandering around the Principal Office unsupervised. Mouse was speaking with Galatea inside, reasoning that she needed a friendly sprite to explain a few things to her. Truth be told, Mouse was curious about the nature of the new arrival.

"So thy gods — the Users — send down these Games that could damage your city? But why?"

Mouse shrugged. "We don't know, hon. Ah was kinda hopin' that you would, since you were a User in the Game."

"I am sure I wasn't," Galatea protested. "I was not in a Game. I was in my home kingdom of Mandor, preparing to embark on a quest for the holy crown. The last thing I remembered was mounting my horse, and the next thing I knew, Bob and that Matrix fellow were trying to disarm me." She looked towards the door and lowered her voice. "And Matrix was not happy about returning my sword to me. Although I gave him my word of honor."

Mouse leaned toward her and spoke in a similar low voice. "He's just edgy, that's all. It's hard to earn his trust. And he's used to fightin' Users. Ah know," she said, as Galatea opened her mouth to protest. "You ain't a User. But he isn't sure about you. Just try not to do anythin' that makes him _more _nervous, huh?"

"If that is possible," Galatea said, glancing at the door.

"You not botherin' him, or him gettin' more nervous?" Mouse asked.

"Either," Galatea replied.

AndrAIa, who was listening in, related the conversation between the hacker and their guest to Matrix. "I don't think she's going to do anything bad. I think she's just lost and more than a little confused. She comes from a very different world." _I know what that's like — though it's been a long time_.

Matrix looked down, a thoughtful expression on his face. Frisket, who was lying at his feet, looked up at him and made a questioning "Arf?"

"I don't know either, boy," Matrix admitted, patting Frisket on the head.

He heard the sound of running feet approaching. Little Enzo appeared around the corner and skidded to a stop in front of them. Frisket perked up and went to meet him.

"Well?" Enzo addressed them, his eyes lit with excitement. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" AndrAIa asked.

"That there's a User here, outside the game! It's all over the city, I heard about it when I got out of school. So, can I see him?"

"Her, and _no_," Matrix said flatly. "We aren't sure what she is. She could be a virus, as far as we know, and she might be dangerous."

"But I want to _see_ her! Pleeeease?" He assumed a puppy-eyed, pleading expression.

The door to the medlab opened. Mouse poked her head out. "What's all that noise out there? Oh, hi there, little fella."

"Is the User in there?" Enzo demanded, fairly jumping up and down with excitement. Matrix put out a hand to hold him back.

"How many times must I say that I am _not_ a User," Galatea said irritably over Mouse's shoulder. Frisket trotted up and began to sniff at her. The doorway area was getting rather crowded.

"What a fine hound he is," Galatea said. She reached out a hand past Mouse to pet Frisket. Matrix was about to protest that it might not be a good idea, since Frisket started to snarl as she reached for him, but when she started scratching behind the dog's ears, Frisket calmed down.

"Wow," Enzo remarked. "Frisket likes you." He turned to Matrix. "She must be okay, then, or Frisket wouldn't let her pet him." Matrix frowned at the dog and said nothing.

Galatea turned her attention to the little sprite. "Well, what is thy name, young master?" she queried.

"My name's Enzo," he answered, holding out his hand for her to shake. She stopped petting the dog and took the boy's hand in hers. Matrix opened his mouth to protest, but AndrAIa's hand on his shoulder silenced him.

"It would be better if thou couldst come in here to talk," Galatea said, "Since I do not seem to be permitted to go out there."

"Ooh! Can I?" Enzo asked, looking from AndrAIa to Matrix to Mouse.

"Ah'm afraid you can't right now," Mouse said to him. She was worried that Enzo might offend Galatea with talk of Games and Users: he would need a briefing about the strange sprite before he talked to her. "Maybe after Phong checks her out."

Enzo sighed, but accepted Mouse's suggestion. "Okay," he said. "I'll wait. C'mon, Frisket." He walked off despondently, Frisket trotting at his heels.

As he left, Phong came in from the opposite end of the corridor, followed by Dot. Mouse indicated to Galatea that she should sit on the medlab bed again. Phong rolled in and tapped the tips of his metal fingers together as he looked Galatea up and down.

Galatea examined him in a similar fashion. "What manner of creature art thou?" she asked him. "Faith, there be many strange things in this place."

Mouse patted her on the shoulder. "This is Phong, dear. He's the oldest and wisest sprite in Mainframe. Phong, this here's Galatea. Say, where's Bob?" she asked.

Dot sighed in exasperation. "People know about Galatea," she said. "It's causing some trouble."

"Are we on yet?" Mike asked his camera crew. The cameraman held up his hand for a moment, then made the thumbs-up sign.

"Coming to you _live_ from the _Principal Office,_" Mike declared in his announcer voice, "Where a _Game Sprite, _left behind by a _malfunctioning _Game cube, has just been taken. But this is no _ordinary _Game sprite…"

"_Mike!_" Bob, an expression of annoyance on his face, swooped in and touched down next to the garrulous appliance.

"Ah, Guardian Bob!" Mike said enthusiastically, holding the microphone up for the Guardian to speak into. "Can you confirm the rumor that the Game sprite now in the Principal Office is actually a _User?_ Does his arrival signal the _apocalyptic destruction_ of the system?"

Bob put his clenched hands on his hips. "No, _she_ is not a User, and no, Mainframe is going to be fine. Turn that thing off and get out of here." Frowning, he put his hand over the camera lens and pushed it away.

When Bob returned to the medlab, Phong was scanning Galatea's icon (she called it her crest), while Mouse ran physical scans on Galatea herself.

"I have never seen a format like hers before," Phong said as Bob came in. The old sprite handed Galatea her icon, which she pinned to her clothes once more. Mouse was looking over the results from her own scans.

"She seems to be a lot like AndrAIa's kinda Game sprite," Mouse concluded, "But not exactly. Maybe this is how a User would seem if we scanned it, but for obvious reasons, we can't be sure."

"One more test," Phong said. "I will need to draw out some of her energy for analysis." He opened his drawer and pulled out a syringe. Galatea shied away from him.

"That looks to be a fiendish device." She turned to Bob. He could see the slightest touch of fear in her eyes. "What is it?"

"It's okay," Bob reassured her. "He's just going to take out a little of your energy to look at. It's going to hurt a bit, but it won't do you any harm."

Galatea looked at Phong, then at Bob, then at Phong again. She nodded to Bob. "If thou sayest that I must, I shall," she said. Then she addressed Phong. "Err…where art thou intending to use that…thing?"

"A syringe," Mouse informed her. "On your arm, hon. Either one will do. Roll up a sleeve and stick your arm out."

Hesitantly, Galatea extended her left arm and rolled back the sleeve to her shoulder. Mouse gently turned her arm so that the inside of her elbow faced upwards. Phong came forward with the syringe. Galatea bit her bottom lip as Phong stuck the needle into her arm and drew back on the plunger, suctioning out a little of her energy.

Eyebrows shot up and jaws dropped all around as the tube of the syringe slowly filled with crimson fluid, instead of the blue that all the watching sprites were expecting. The red stuff didn't look like energy at all.

"Cool!" exclaimed Enzo, who had managed to sneak back and was watching from the doorway. His expression of fascination changed to one of consternation as Matrix spun around and glared at him.

"I do not understand," Galatea said as Phong removed the needle. "What did you all expect would happen?"

"We expected it to be blue, like our energy," AndrAIa explained. "But yours is red. I wonder if something is wrong with you?"

"If it were not red, then there would indeed be something wrong with me." Mouse put a small band-aid over the place where the needle had gone in. "Ingenious," Galatea murmured as she examined the little bandage. Then she pulled her sleeve back over her arm again. "I suppose your kind do not have blood, then, or that it is different?"

"Blood?" Matrix said. "I've seen it in some Games. When a User or Game sprite is wounded, they sometimes leak blood."

Galatea shot him a glare. "I told thee, I am not a User, and I am not a Game sprite!"

"Look," AndrAIa said, sitting down on the medlab bed beside Galatea. "We haven't seen anything like you before. Your energy — your blood — is, well, _different_ from ours. And so are some other things about you. Your icon, for instance. And I've never seen that color skin on a sprite, at least not outside of a Game. We're just trying to find out why you're different from us and what you are.."

Galatea looked panicked for a cycle, then she regained her composure. "I know what I am. I am human, a paladin of the Order of Guardians. As to what all of you are," she said, looking at each of them in turn, "I am still trying to find that out myself."

There were a few cycles of awkward silence, broken by an empty gurgle from Galatea's stomach. Galatea looked at her feet for a moment, then back up at AndrAIa. "I hope, at least, that your kind take food," she said sheepishly, "That is suitable for humans. I have had nothing to eat for some time."

Everyone, naturally, looked at Dot. She shrugged. "Well," she said, "If you're hungry, I know a place where you can get some food."

Privately, AndrAIa was concerned that their guest might not be able to eat their food — after all, there were some significant physical differences between the sprites and Galatea herself. But they would process that problem when it came up. Galatea stood, and AndrAIa with her. Dot walked towards the door and motioned for them to follow. "C'mon. I'll show you the diner."

Mouse had become, by a sort of unspoken agreement, Galatea's tutor in the ways of Mainframe — AndrAIa equalled or surpassed her in patience and understanding, but she couldn't juggle Galatea's perplexity and Matrix's paranoia all the time. Hence, Mouse had matter-of-factly assumed responsibility for coaching the peculiar sprite. The others sat at different tables around the establishment—Dot and Mouse had decided that Galatea would only be confused by having too many people around at once, especially since neither she nor the other sprites had really adjusted to the situation yet.

As the two of them sat across from each other at a table in Dot's Diner, waiting for their food, Galatea questioned the hacker about her swords.

"Thou'rt the only other person here, besides myself, who carries swords," Galatea observed. "Although I have surmised that there are weapons in this place which I do not comprehend."

"Matrix's gun, y'mean?" Mouse said, leaning back against the seat and placing an arm on the table. "Yeah. That's a fancy one — Ah don't know where he got it — but a lot of folks use guns or laser lances around here. But 'cha know, there's nothin' special about 'em. If you have a sword and folks can tell ya know how to use it, they don't mess with ya."

Cecil zoomed up to the table on his ceiling track, carrying two trays of food. Though he disliked Mouse and under normal circumstances would have taken his time filling her order, Dot had warned him to be on his best behavior, _or else_. "Mesdames," he greeted them, "Two orders of burgers, fries, and energy shakes," he said as he put one tray of food in front of Galatea and one in front of Mouse.

Galatea peered at Cecil, who _hrumphed_ at her before whizzing off elsewhere. She then looked suspciously at the unfamiliar food and poked at the hamburger.

"The burger," Mouse explained, "Is meat on a bun, with pickles, lettuce, onions and tomatoes. And some ketchup, which is a tangy kinda tomato sauce. The fries are just fried potatoes. And the shake…"

Galatea had been stirring the shake with her straw, and now lifted it out of the cup. Some of the shake oozed off it and fell back into the cup with a _plop_. Galatea looked disgusted. "I…well, I would hate to offend Mistress Dot, but I am not sure about this — what didst thou call it? — shake."

With great effort, Mouse managed to keep a straight face. "Just try it," she said. "You'll like it, Ah promise. No, hon, you don't lift it up with the straw. You suck it through the straw, like this." Mouse demonstrated with her own shake.

Galatea gave a _here-goes-nothing_ sigh and put her lips to the straw. In a moment her face lit up with delight. She licked her lips happily, "Ah! Tis good indeed."

As they were setting to their meals, Ray Tracer entered the diner and approached their table. "G'day, darlin'," he said to Mouse. "It took a lot 'a shopping, but I finally found you a birthday present." He noticed Galatea, who was looking up at him curiously. "Ah, and who's this young lady?"

"Ray," Mouse said, "This is Galatea. She's a Game sprite. Sort of." Galatea didn't seem to take offense at this description — maybe she was growing accustomed to it, or she considered it a good alternative to being called a User. "Galatea, this is Ray Tracer. He's a Web Surfer."

Ray and Galatea shook hands. She seemed to be getting used to encountering strange things and people — which was good, because she was going to be encountering quite a lot of both.

"Well met, sir," she said. "I do know what surfing is, as I have seen some islanders do it, but things being as they are here, I am sure thy people have another definition for't."

Ray looked questioningly at Mouse. Mouse mouthed the words _I'll explain later_ to him, and he nodded before addressing Galatea. "So, what Game did you come from?"

Galatea looked vaguely troubled at this question, and Mouse felt uneasy. "I did not come from a Game," she said. "Although everyone here seems to think that I did."

Ray took this in stride. "Well, per'aps you can tell me about where you came from later, after you've finished lunch…"

"People!" Dot's voice rang out across the diner. Everyone turned their attention to her. "I just got a message from the Principal Office," she said gravely. "We have a problem."


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: As Dot Said, We Have A Problem

The sprites, having hastily abandoned their meal, were now in the war room of the Principal Office, looking at the map of Mainframe in the center of the chamber. Galatea was there too, since everybody wanted to know what was going on but nobody wanted to leave her alone. There was too great a risk of her getting into — or causing — trouble.

"An injured binome was found on Level 31 a few nanoseconds ago," Phong informed them. "One other…" the console behind him beeped urgently. He excused himself and turned to it, scanning the message that had just been sent to him. He turned back to the assembled sprites. "_Two_ others have been reported missing. I am having the CPUs look for them." He steepled his metal fingertips. "The one we found was drained of energy — not enough to delete her, fortunately, but she was barely able to keep processing. There were no marks found on her, so we are unsure as to how the energy was drained."

"So it looks like the User wasn't the only weird thing that came in with the Game," Matrix said.

"I _do_ have a name," Galatea pointed out acidly. But nobody paid attention to her, so she crossed her arms and sulked as Phong continued.

"The victim is not yet conscious, so we cannot question her about her attacker. But we found traces of viral residue at the scene of the attack."

"So we're dealing with an energy-draning virus?" Matrix asked. "Well, we had better start looking for it, before it hurts anyone else."

"That would be a logical deduction at this juncture, my son," Phong said, adjusting his spectacles. "However, we cannot determine where it will strike next. You see, we have had no reports of power failures, except the one caused by the Game cube. It is therefore unlikely to be a virus of the Class-5 type. It only drains dataform energy - a vampire virus, for lack of a better term."

"Excuse me," Galatea said from the back of the room. The sprites turned to her, except for Matrix, who seemed to be lost in thought. "What is a virus?"

Mouse was thinking of a way to explain it to her, but Bob did it first. "Well…viruses come in many different shapes and sizes, but they're generally bad news. With…a few exceptions," he added. "From what we know about this one, it's safe to assume that it means the system harm."

Galatea nodded. "I see. Then I shall aid you all in your search, so that you may…"

"_No!_" cried all the sprites in unison. Galatea looked shocked.

"Err…that is…" Bob searched for words.

Phong saved him by wheeling up to Galatea and putting a hand on her arm. "My child, you have never encountered viruses before. In fact, this whole system, and our way of doing things, is new to you. It would be best if you were to stay here in the Principal Office and out of danger," he said calmly.

With a hurt expression, Galatea protested, "But it is my sworn duty to defend innocents against such menaces…"

"That's our job," Matrix interrupted. "You're staying here. End of discussion." He glared at her, to silence any further protests on her part. She met him stare for stare, something few individuals, sprite, binome or otherwise, could do. They might have remained deadlocked for some time if Dot hadn't jabbed Matrix with her elbow and AndrAIa hadn't gently led Galatea out of the room.

After Phong had finished the briefing and dismissed everyone, AndrAIa and Galatea reentered the war room. The strange sprite didn't look at Phong, but at the great holographic map of Mainframe in the center of the chamber. Phong would have to find something to do with and/or about her. He rolled up behind her and was about to tap her on the shoulder and get her attention, but she turned to face him before he could do so. He put his hands together.

"I will assign you quarters here. I am afraid we cannot let you go around unattended, because…"

"…Because thy people do not trust me." AndrAIa, standing behind Galatea, looked distressed.

"No, because you are unfamiliar with Mainframe and there is a virus loose," Phong finished. "And do not worry about Matrix. Experience has made him both suspcious and stubborn, but he is a good sprite. Given time, he will come around."

"Maybe," Galatea muttered. She sighed resignedly. "Very well. Because of the state of emergency, I shall comply, for the nonce. But I do not like being treated like a troublesome child."

Phong was glad that their unexpected guest was willing to abide by his decision, at least for the time being. He did not think that she would do any _intentional_ harm, but between her ignorance and the fear the Mainframers might have of her (most of them had seen Mike's aborted broadcast), he dared not let her out. "Give it time," Phong told her. "AndrAIa, will you please find a suitable room for our guest?"

The room they put her in was a nice one, or at least she thought so — it looked very different from anything she had ever slept in. There was an attached room for ablutions and certain necessary functions (quite a luxury, but apparently standard here) — AndrAIa had explained it all to her. Her door was not locked, but there was a binome wachman on guard outside to make sure she did not leave. She had been allowed to keep her sword, although she wasn't sure what that meant — whether they trusted her not to anything malicious, or whether they simply were not afraid of what she could do with it.

There was a small terminal in the room as well. AndrAIa had helped her get started on figuring it out, before she'd left to join the others. Galatea had spent two hours (by her reckoning) working out the intricacies of the device, using it to find various documents, pictures and recorded scenes. Some of them were interesting, but, for the most part, they were incomprehensible. Galatea was bored, frustrated, and anxious: she had abandoned the terminal and was now staring out the window.

She had recently contemplated escaping through it, as rude as that might be, but it was too high up to be feasible, and in any case she couldn't figure out how to get it open. She just watched the traffic — the strange hovering horseless carriages and people (of both sprite and binome types) on sets of hovering discs. She thought she had seen the boy Enzo go by on one, but she wasn't sure.

She heard the soft noise of the door sliding open behind her, and with it the sound of snoring from the corridor outside. Turning around, she saw Enzo standing in the doorway, a finger to his lips. He gestured for her to follow him.

She didn't want to give her hosts cause to trust her any less than they did already, but she couldn't stand being stuck in here any longer — and she was curious. Moving quietly, she went to the door. Enzo moved aside so that she could enter the corridor, and the portal to her room slid shut behind her. The snoring sound she had heard earlier came from the guard binome, who had fallen asleep in his chair, a half-empty box of torus-shaped, frosted pastries beside him. There were crumbs all over him and, Galatea noticed, frosting around his mouth. Written on the side of the box was the word"Donuts."

Enzo pointed to the sleeping binome, and grinned at her. Galatea wondered if he were responsible for the guard's state of repose (she wouldn't put it past him, at this point). The boy moved off down the corridor and gestured to her again. She went to join him. At last, he seemed to think it safe to speak.

"I figured you must be bored in there," he said, "and that you might want to see more of the city than the Principal Office and my sister's diner…" He jumped at the sound of approaching footsteps.. Enzo quickly pressed a button near a door and pushed Galatea through it — she was too startled to react or resist — and then the door closed again. She couldn't see, since the room was not lit and there was no window, but she could hear the faint sound of the footsteps coming closer. Then there was a brief conversation, and then the footsteps went away again. The door opened and Enzo took her hand to pull her out before shutting it again.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't want anyone to see that you were out. I know a secret exit — once we're in a safe place, I can give you a different clothing format so people won't recognize you, at least not from a distance. I've got it all planned out," he said proudly.

"Thou art clever, for one so young," Galatea said. "But why art thou taking such a risk? The others will be wroth with thee."

Enzo's expression turned grave in the way that only a child's could. "Because I don't like being left behind either," he said. Then he brightened up again. "C'mon!" He jogged down the corridor. Galatea followed him.

Eventually they came upon a door marked "Maintenance." Enzo opened it and ushered Galatea through. After she had entered, he joined her and the door shut behind them. "I didn't get your name before," Enzo said.

"Galatea," she said. "Where is Frisket, by the by?"

"On the bottom level, with the other stuff I got together," he said. He started to move down the passageway to a ladder. She followed him. "They told me to stay put too. But I'm not scared of the virus. They just wanted me out of the way."

Galatea found herself liking Enzo more and more — he was the only sprite she'd met who seemed to understand her completely.

They traveled through the twisting labyrinth of passageways for some time, occasionally talking to each other, until they reached what Enzo claimed to be the last ladder.

"Frisket is down there with the stuff I brought," he said. "Then we can get out — no more ladders.

"The two descended to the bottom of the ladder. Then Enzo held out a hand to stay Galatea and went off into the next chamber on his own. _He has better hearing than I do,_ Galatea thought. Then she heard Enzo speak, sounding mildly discomfited.

"Oh," he said, "Uh…hi Hex."

In teams of two, Mainframe's finest searched for the virus that was loose in their system. Bob and Dot were together, gliding above the city and giving it a thorough examination. Bob saw something that Dot couldn't catch and began to descend. He gestured to her as he did so, but didn't take his eyes off whatever it was. Dot followed.

Bob came down in an alleyway, and picked up something off the ground. He showed it to Dot. "An icon," he said sadly, "Without its owner. I think…this belonged to the other missing sprite."

Dot hoped that someone had just dropped it by accident, but she knew it was unlikely. She took a PID scanner off her belt — something that only the or a higher-level Principal Office employee was allowed to have — and scanned the icon, reading the code contained within.

Her stomach dropped when she read the result. "You're right, Bob," she said. "This belonged to one of the missing binomes." This made her very worried — two other binomes had been reported missing in the time they had been searching. How many more of the virus' victims were going to be deleted?

_Dude! _did Hexadcimal get here? Enzo asked himself as the chaos virus poked at the disguise materials he had obtained for Galatea. He hoped his new friend would stay hidden. User only knew what Hex would do if she saw…

"And what — or who — are these things for?" Hex asked pleasantly. "Not you, I should think. This color doesn't suit you at all."

Frisket growled at Hexadecimal, but he knew not to attack her. She ignored him and looked up at Enzo, her eyes a calm blue, a smile on her face. "You must be doing something interesting. But you _really_should be in a safe place. There's a nasty uninvited guest running about. Your sister wouldn't be happy if she knew you were wandering around."

Enzo swallowed. "Umm…you're not going to tell her, are you?"

Hexadecimal grinned — not her sharp-toothed grin, fortunately — and chucked him under the chin. Enzo was uncomfortable with Hexadecimal's close proximity to him, but tried not to flinch. "Of _course_ I won't, you sweet little boy. Who am I to spoil your fun?" She drew back her hand — Enzo felt relieved — and chuckled. Then she turned her head towards the chamber he had just come from, where Galatea still was. _Oh no._

"What a surprise," Hexadecimal said excitedly. "There's _someone else_ here." She zipped over to the doorway. Enzo got there just after she had gone in, and saw her talking to Galatea. He was glad that Galatea had been sensible enough not to draw her sword, even though the sight of Hexadecimal had probably scared her. Then again, maybe Hexadecimal didn't seem any scarier to her than anything else she'd seen lately.

"Good day to thee, mistress," she said. "My name is…"

"I know. Galatea," Hexadecimal said, cocking her head and peering curiously at the sprite. "I've seen you in my looking glass. So Enzo is taking you out to see the sights? How charming."

"I would like to know _thy_ name, lady," Galatea interjected. Hexadecimal's eyes turned green, and she twirled around.

"Ooh, listen to how she talks. Isn't that _precious?_" She faced Galatea again. "My name is Hexadecimal. It's nice to meet you."

"Well met," Galatea said with apparent sincerity. Enzo had to admire her calm in the face of danger. But he tensed again when Hexadecimal asked:

"What Game do you come from, dear?" She blinked her eyes and waited for the answer.

"I do not," Galatea said. "I come from the kingdom of Mandor. I am still not sure what brought me here."

Hexadecimal leaned towards Enzo in a conspiratorial way and said in a rather loud whisper, "She's obviously _quite_ mad."

_Please don't get angry,_ Enzo thought desperately, looking imploringly at Galatea. She looked back at him with her eyebrow raised, but didn't draw her sword.

Hexadecimal stood up again. "Well," she said, "It _has_ been a nice chat, but I have to help Bob look for the…unexpected guest. I'm sure he'll appreciate it." Her last sentence was spoken in a sultry tone, and she smiled dreamily. Then she said "Ta-ta!" and vanished — body first and face after.

Both Enzo and Galatea sighed with relief. Frisket came over to join them, whimpering.

"What an…_interesting_ person," Galatea remarked.

"She's a virus. But not like other viruses. It's a long story," Enzo said. "She's sort of random, but she's mostly okay. I think."

"I hope so. I thought she was referring to me when she talked about the 'unwelcome guest.' And thou'rt sure she will not tell anyone about our venture?"

"She probably won't, if she says she won't," Enzo said. "Unless someone else realizes we're out first."

Galatea nodded. "All right," she said. She changed the subject. "Now…where are those costume things?" Frisket dashed out and fetched them from the next room. He dropped them at Galatea's feet, and she patted him. He looked up at her, wagging his tail.

"I am afraid thee and thy master will have to go out of here," Galatea said, "For decency's sake while I change."

"C'mon, Frisket," Enzo said, going into the next chamber. The dog followed him. With his back turned to the doorway of the room in which Galatea was changing (there was no door), he played with his yo-yo. After a few nanoseconds, he heard her say, "I am ready."

Enzo turned to look at her. She was now dressed in a more stylish red clothing format, with the brown clothes she had been wearing bundled under her arm. Her hair was now covered by a flame-colored scarf. She looked almost like a normal sprite, except for her icon. But there was nothing he could do about that.

"Alphanumeric," said Enzo. "Okay, let's go outside. I got an extra zipboard for you, but I guess I'll have to teach you to use it first."

Galatea looked confused. "Alphanumeric?" she queried him.

Enzo realized that she didn't know the word. He tried several synonyms. "Awesome, amazing, cool, neat, good, awesome…"

"I think I understand now," Galatea said. She said the word slowly, as if chewing it over. "Alphanumeric. What an interesting word…"

She followed Enzo as he led her into a passageway. After walking along it for a while, they came to the other end, where there was a trapdoor. Enzo opened the door and they came up in a warehouse nearby. "We just went through one of the Principal Office's causeways," he explained, helping Galatea out. "Dot had it put in after the restart, just in case." Frisket leaped out of the hole in the floor, drawing an appreciative whistle from Galatea, and afterwards she helped Enzo to cover the trapdoor entrance again.

"Okay. You can hide the other clothing format here, for now. Just remember where it is. I'm going to teach you to use a zipboard." He had two of them, compressed, hanging from his belt. He handed one of the hand-sized disks to Galatea, and took the other himself. "Watch," he said. He took the disk, black-and-white side up, and held it about half a micrometer above the floor. Then he let go. It didn't fall — it hovered there. Then he double-clicked it with his hand, and it expanded into a usable zipboard.

Galatea, amazed, imitated him, and was delighted to get the same results. "I have seen others using these," she remarked, "But I have no idea how they are controlled. And…they look rather unsafe. Is it possible to attach one's feet…"

"You don't need to," Enzo said, waving a hand dismissively. "It'll stay by itself, unless you try to jump off. Or if you run into something really fast, that'll do it too."

Galatea thought for a few moments, then shrugged. "Well. I shall simply have to avoid running into things. How difficult can it be?"

Enzo spent a while training Galatea in the use of a zipboard — the thing was controlled by how one leaned one's body. It could apparently read shifts in the rider's weight and position. One had to develop an intuitive understanding of how one's movements would translate to the zipboard before one could use it effectively — a bit like using a sword.

It was all terribly complicated. Galatea slammed into the side of the warehouse for the third time (Enzo wasn't letting her ride it outside until she had the 'hang' of it), and landed painfully on her backside. The zipboard clattered to the ground next to her. Enzo floated over to help her up. "Are you okay?" he asked. Frisket nudged her with his cold nose and whimpered.

She patted Frisket as she got to her feet. "Unhurt but for my pride," she replied. Enzo smiled at her.

Galatea picked up her zipboard, lifting it to knee level, then let it go. It hovered there, waiting for her to step on. She did so, and drew herself up to make the board ascend. It began to rise: she hunched to halt its descent.. "I think I will figure this out, eventually…"

"Here's a tip," Enzo said. "You need to use your knees more. You're keeping them all locked up. That's fine when you're going slow, but you need a lot of swing to make fast turns. Try it again — we can go out when you've made three laps around the warehouse without bumping into something."

Galatea floated to the warehouse door, set her course for the corner to her left, and began to move. She swung around to avoid hitting the corner, and managed (barely) not to bump into the wall. The rim of one of the disks scraped a large crate, putting her off-balance a little, but she was able to right herself. She managed to complete one successful lap.

"Two more!" Enzo shouted. Galatea hoped she could make it. It was taking a lot of concentration to keep track of how she was moving and thus keep control the board. She finished the second lap. One more to go.

"You can do it!" Enzo encouraged her. _I certainly hope I can,_ she thought. She barely managed to avoid hitting the rear wall of the warehouse when she turned a corner, and would have breathed a sigh of relief if she were able to concentrate on anything other than avoiding a collision with something. Enzo cheered as she returned to the front door and slowed down.

"That's great!" he exclaimed. "Now we can go out. I'll try not to go too fast for you, since you still need practice. But we'd better stay low so we don't get caught." He opened the door and paused. "Exciting, huh?"

"More like stupendously dangerous, but I suppose one could call it exciting," Galatea said, carefully following him. Frisket bounded out with them, and Enzo pulled the door shut.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Close Encounters

Since Hack and Slash wanted to help with the search, and had pleaded, insisted and cajoled him to no end, Phong had sent them to investigate level 31 — to keep them out from underfoot, if nothing else. The pair were glad to have an assignment of any kind, and had been patrolling around the dark and grimy streets for a few nanoseconds when something occurred to Hack.

"Slash?"

"Yes, Hack?"

"What exactly are we looking for?"

Slash stopped to think for a moment. Hack stopped to wait for an answer.

After a few cycles, Slash shrugged. "I don't know."

"You do not know and I do not know. So how can we find it if we do not know? Why did they not tell us what to look for?"

"Nobody knows for sure. It's not just us. They've never seen it either."

"Oh. I forgot that. I thought they just didn't tell us."

"They would have told us if they'd known."

"But they didn't."

"Because they couldn't. So they didn't."

"So then what do we look for?"

Slash paused to think again. It was hard to think when most of your circuitry was concerned with controlling weaponry (a lot of weaponry) and not with cognitive functions. "Anything suspicious, I think."

The two resumed their patrol and entered the alley behind Al's restaurant. If they had been able to smell, they would have felt vaguely nauseous — not because of the garbage dumpster, but because of the smell of Al's cooking. How he stayed in business at all was anybody's guess.

Slash, who was wondering exactly what qualified as "suspicious," didn't see the round, unconscious binome until he fell over it.

"Uh, Slash, I think you just tripped over something suspicious." Hack helped his companion to get up again.

"Oh, oh! Yeah, that looks pretty suspicious."

"Yes indeed it does."

"Very, very suspicious."

"Wait. Did you hear something?"

Suddenly a black mass leaped at the two robots. Although it was fast, Hack and Slash were faster. Both of them screamed and zipped to opposite ends of the alley. The black thing paused. Hack took the opportunity to wheel around and fire off a small rocket at the shadow. He missed, and the creature slithered off. His rocket left a smoking hole in the ground.

After listening for a few cycles, Slash spoke. "Are you still processing?"

"I'm still processing. Are you still processing?"

"Yes I am. How about you?"

"You asked me already."

"Oh, yeah. Uh, what was your answer?"

"I said yes."

"Oh."

Cautiously, the two floated up to the injured binome again. They stared at it for a few cycles, not quite sure what to do next.

"What happened here?" Hexadecimal's voice startled the two robots. Hack jumped into Slash's arms and they both shuddered so hard they nearly shook themselves to pieces.

Hexadecimal approached them, her gait catlike and fluid. "Did I scare you?" she asked sympathetically.

Hack jumped off out of Slash's arms as quickly as he had jumped in. "No ma'am. Not at all."

"Not a bit."

"Why should we be scared of you?"

"You didn't scare us."

"We do not scare _that_ easily."

"No we don't."

There was a pause. "That's too bad," Hexadecimal said, disappointed. "It would have been funny." She giggled. Then she noticed the unfortunate binome, as if for the first time.

"Someone ought to tell Phong about him," she remarked.

Hack and Slash stumbled over each other's words in their haste to agree with her, but neither actually tried to contact Phong. Hexadecimal scowled at them and they shut up.

"I'll do it," she snapped. "You wait here until I get back." She uploaded herself into her mask and vanished, leaving the two frightened robots on their own with the unconscious binome and, possibly, their shadowy assailant.

"So…we're going to wait here?"

"That's what she said. Wait here."

Pause.

"Let's go."

"We can't."

"Why not?"

"Because we're waiting for Hexadecimal."

"Oh. Right."

They had been in the air for a while, and Galatea was getting used to the zipboard. They were not going very high up, or very fast, but it was thrilling to one who had previously considered such things impossible. Frisket ran along below them. The strange city, seen from this vantage point, was magnificent. She had only recently noticed that there was no sun here, although sky and clouds were present. But after all the other bizzare things she had seen here, this failed to surprise her as much as it should have.

"Oh, I know! We can go to Baudway first!" Enzo said. "I bet you'll like…oh no! Get down!" He halted his forward progress and began to descend and began to descend.

Almost without thinking, Galatea jerked her zipboard to a stop and crouched to make it float downwards. She looked up as her board went down, and saw what Enzo had been worried about.

There were two other sprites on zipboards some distance away, too far from them to make out properly but too close for comfort. Galatea stopped her board in mid-descent. She saw Enzo duck under an awning and followed him.

He pulled her back into the doorway as the two sprites passed overhead. She recognized them — Matrix and AndrAIa. After a few moments, Enzo floated out, slowly, from under the awning. Galatea joined him. Enzo scanned the sky.

"Whew!" he exclaimed, brushing an arm across his forehead. "That was close."

Frisket, on the opposite side of the doorway, started growling. Enzo turned to him. "What is it, boy?" he asked, concerned.

Suddenly a shadowy blob jumped out of a corner, and seized Enzo's zipboard by the connector in the middle. He cried out, and Galatea, acting quickly, grabbed his hand. The shadow was trying to pull him away now, and had started to slither part of itself over his shoe.

"Hold my hand!" Galatea ordered. Enzo brought his other hand up to grip hers. Galatea leaned back, trying to pull Enzo away from the living shadow. It enveloped his zipboard, and was curling around his ankle. Although she pulled with all her strength, Galatea could not get the shadow to release its grip. And she couldn't keep up this game of tug-of-war for much longer.

"Hold on," she said. She pulled her right hand from Enzo's grip — he held onto her left wrist — and drew her sword. She jabbed the point of it at the mass of shadow around Enzo's foot, managing to avoid sticking the point in the boy himself. The shadow took hold of the sword, too. But Galatea did not intend to give up her friend, or her weapon, to the creature. Closing her eyes, she directed the force of her will down her arm, and into the sword, activating its magical power.

The creature emitted a bubbling shriek. Enzo (minus his zipboard) and the sword both came free, unexpectedly, and both Galatea and Enzo shot away from the creature, since she was still leaning back on her zipboard. She barely kept her balance. The shadow came after them, so she straightened up to make her zipboard ascend. She shot up into the air, Enzo desperately gripping her left arm, and when she had gotten to what she judged to be a sufficient height, she flexed into a bring the board to a stop. But she misjudged how much she should move, and did so to quickly. The board came to a dead stop, while her body still had upward momentum.

Between that and Enzo's weight putting her off-balance, she was unable to stay on her feet, and fell over. For a terror-filled moment, she thought that she and Enzo would fall to the street below, but they didn't; her feet had not parted company with the board, so she was now floating upside-down in midair, with the boy clinging desperately to her left forearm. She let the sword go so that she could get a more secure grip on Enzo — the sword could survive the fall, and she could get it back, but Enzo was another matter. She held his arm with her right hand to keep him from slipping, unable to think of what she should do next, but she was saved the trouble.

AndrAIa appeared at the edge of her vision. She floated up to Enzo, gently, and took him in her arms. Galatea released her grip, as the relieved Enzo was transported to the top of a nearby building. Matrix floated up under Galatea, took her by the hands, and turned her back right side up. He held her hand and slowly guided her to a touchdown on the roof where Enzo and AndrAIa had landed. Enzo was panicked.

"Frisket! Where's Frisket?" he cried. Galatea noticed that one of his shoes was missing.

The sound of barking and snarling caught their attention from the street below. Frisket was obviously all right. Matrix peered over the edge of the roof, the (\/) in his false eye glowing as he scanned the area below. "It's gone now," he said.

"I feel like I stepped on a null," Enzo said, pointing to his left foot. He flexed his toes experimentally.

Matrix turned around to look at AndrAIa, then both of them looked at Enzo. AndrAIa folded her arms and pursed her lips. "Enzo," she said severely, "You have a lot of explaining to do."

The virus, foiled in its attempt to catch the sprites, slithered down a data drain just ahead of the dog's snapping jaws. It would try again as soon as it had the opportunity, but for now, it would stick to binomes. They were acceptable, if somewhat bland, prey. Right now it had to escape. It couldn't take on the big sprites who had just arrived, or the dog. The sound of the dog's barking faded as the virus slipped into the sewers.

Enzo did not actually explain himself until he was in the war room of the Principal office with Phong and the other search parties. Partly because it would be better if he only had to do so once, and also because he was too shocked right after the attack by the virus to be coherent. Galatea, still wearing the clothes Enzo had lent her (which, embarassingly enough, turned out to be some old things of Dot's), also had a lot of explaning to do. As did a certain other party.

"You _knew_ they were running around when they weren't supposed to be and you didn't _tell_ me?" Dot accused Hexadecimal.

The virus put on her best "innocent" face, which wasn't a very convincing one. "I told them I wouldn't. And she's such a _nice_ girl. I didn't want to get her in trouble."

"Can I finish?" Enzo cut in. He was still missing his left shoe. Dot and Hexadecimal fell silent. "Thank you," Enzo said, exasperated.

"I gave her a quick course on how to use zipboards, while we were in the warehouse — you know, the one with the passage to the Principal Office in it — and when she was able to use the zipboard okay, we headed to Baudway. Then I saw Matrix and AndrAIa and pulled us down to hide, and after I did and we were about to go back up this black thing grabbed my board…"

"Ooh! Ooh! We saw a black thing too!"

"It was scary."

"It was nasty."

"I tried to get it. I missed."

"It tried to eat us."

"It was very mean."

Enzo cleared his throat at the robots and glared. They fell silent, and Enzo continued with his story.

"So anyway, I grabbed her hand, but she couldn't pull me away, and the thing was on my foot and it _ate_ the zipboard, I mean totally end-filed it, so she took out her sword and poked it and then the sword lit up red." Here Enzo paused to grin. "It was totally pixelaciou!."

"I saw that part," Matrix said. "How did you _do_ that, anyway?"

Galatea shrugged at him. "Tis an enchanted sword, and though I can only use a part of its power, it was sufficient to keep the boy from harm."

"You didn't tell us the sword was enchanted," Bob said. Then, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, he added,"Don't say it: we never asked. Right."

"And the thing ate my shoe, too," Enzo said. "And my foot was numb. It was like I'd stepped on a big null or something."

"A big, unusually _smart_ null," Matrix said. "And luckily Galatea was able to hurt it, or Enzo would have ended up like one of those binomes."

Galatea brightened to hear Matrix use her proper name, but her face fell when she saw how Phong was looking at her.

"Well," the old sprite said, "She did cause trouble by leaving, but if it were not for her, Enzo might have been deleted, or at least severely injured." At this, Dot cast a "you're-in-so-much-trouble" look at her younger brother, who bit his lower lip and looked scared. Phong adjusted his glasses.

"Considering your actions today, and that you hurt the virus, we shall not keep you confined any longer. You will help us look for the virus instead." Galatea smiled. But Phong wasn't finished. "We have another eager volunteer in need of a search partner. You will work with Hexadecimal." Galatea's resulting expression bore a resemblance to young Enzo's. Bob chuckled behind his hand. Matrix and Mouse smiled. The other sprites looked at each other, but did not say anything.

Hexadecimal put her hand on Galatea's shoulder, in a friendly way. "Ooh, this is just _delightful_. We'll get to know each other better." The virus smiled. "I just can't wait."

Galatea turned to face her newly assigned partner. Her face now bore a soft smile, with no trace of the anxiety that had been there before. Dot had to admire her composure. "I am sure we will get along well."

"In any case," Phong said, "The search is over for today — you all need rest, and the CPUs can take over for tonight. Bob, Dot, Mouse — I need to speak with you for a few nanoseconds. The rest of you should go."

The assembled sprites, robots and viruses began to file out. Hexadecimal was talking to Galatea, although Dot could not hear what she was saying. Dot managed to grab little Enzo by the shoulder before we could get out the door. She spoke to her little brother in her best disciplinarian voice. "Wait outside the door for me. We are going to have a _long_ talk after I've spoken to Phong." She narrowed her eyes at him to underscore that grim declaration.

Enzo nodded vigorously. "Yes sis," he almost yelped. Then he dashed out the door.

When most of the sprites had gone, except for those whom Phong had held back, he spoke to Mouse. "Have you told Galatea how Games work?"

"Yeah," Mouse said. "Ah told her that we think she comes from one. She's convinced that she doesn't."

"As far as we know, she does. While in the Game, she was a User. But the Game malfunctioned, and it left her behind. When it did, she ceased to be a User. I am not sure what she is exactly, but she is not any kind of sprite I have encountered before. Although AndrAIa also left the Game she came from…well, it was under a different set of circumstances, and AndrAIa was also aware of her nature. Galatea is not."

"She thinks she's whoever she's supposed to be in her Game," Bob said.

"_You_might not have seen someone like her before," Mouse said,"But _someone _has. There's a file on it in the Supercomputer database…" She noticed the way Bob was looking at her. She frowned at him. "It's a _public_ file." She met the Guardian's doubting look with a pout before Bob turned away, rolled his eyes and shook his head, as if resigned. Mouse continued. "Apparently this has happened once before, in another system. There was a Game error that made a copy of the User, which stayed behind when the Game left. That copy also thought that the Game was a real place."

"What did they do about her?" Dot asked.

"It was a _him_," Mouse corrected. "Well, he wanted to go back home. Apparently they tried to help him, by gettin' him back into the Game he had come from. They managed to register him with the system and make him capable of rebootin'."

"Oh. So AndrAIa wasn't the first sprite to have her icon modified like that after all," Dot said.

"A real bummer for yours truly," Mouse said, sighing. "Ah thought Ah was makin' history. But back to the story. So the system Guardian took him into the Games, hopin' they could find the one he had come from. And they did."

"What happened?" Dot asked.

"Well, he rebooted in the Game so it would register him, then changed his icon to the one he'd been created with," Mouse said. "And when the Game went, he went with it. He was re-integrated into it, or at least that's the theory. Nobody ever saw him again, far as Ah know."

Bob shook his head. "We can't do that. That might have seemed like the best solution to the Guardian of that system, but I don't think it was the right choice."

"Why not?" Dot asked. "He got to go home, back to where he belonged…"

"Because even benevolent, advanced Game sprites don't remember anything beyond the initialization of the Game they're in — except for the strategies of the User.

That's what they're programmed for. You can meet the same AI sprite over and over again every time their Game is played, and they won't remember you. I know from experience." Bob explained. He looked a little forlorn. "I think their memory files are reset every time the Game is restarted. If the User-copy we were talking about stayed in the Game…" He didn't continue.

"I see," Dot said. "He might as well have been deleted."

There were a few moments of silence while they all considered this. Bob was the first one to speak.

"We can't do that to her. I guess we'll have to tell her…that we can't send her home." The other sprites nodded.

"That means," Dot observed, "That she's going to be here for a while. So next second, before she and Hexadecimal set off on patrol, I want us to register her, the way we did AndrAIa."

"Okay," Mouse said. "Ah can do it. Ah just need to make some adjustments." She looked at Bob. "Just don't tell her that she can re-integrate herself into the Game. Ah kinda like her and it would be a real pity…"

"I won't," Bob assured her.

"Good," Phong concluded. "Now that we have figured that out, let us all get some rest. We will need it."

"G'night y'all," Mouse said and walked out the door. Phong rolled after her.

Dot and Bob were the only ones left in the room.

"So…want me to keep an eye on you and Enzo on your way home?" he asked.

Dot smiled. "That's sweet of you. I'm sorry, but I'll have to say no — I'm going to stay the night in my quarters here in case something else comes up. But can you please take Enzo home after I…talk with him?"

Bob looked a little disappointed, but nodded to her. "Okay. Just promise me you'll try to get some sleep?"

"I promise. I just want to be here in case I have to handle an emergency." She took his hands and kissed him, for a few moments. "But you should really go get some rest," she said afterwards.

"If you're going to stay, maybe I should too," he suggested quickly. "I could come back after bringing Enzo home…"

"No," she insisted. She wanted him to stay, but it wouldn't be a good idea. They both had work to do and that had to come first. "You more than anyone else will need to be well-rested for tomorrow. I can handle things just fine."

"If you say so," Bob assented. He went to the door, somewhat regretfully. It slid open, and he waved at Dot before departing. As he left, Dot changed her facial expression from a tender smile to a fearsome scowl, in preparation for giving her delinquent younger brother a good scolding. When the door shut behind Enzo, he looked absolutely petrified. And he was still without a left shoe.

"Are we…are we gonna have that talk now?" Enzo squeaked.

Although his offense was serious, at the sight of him it took almost all of Dot's willpower to keep from breaking into laughter. She kept her voice stern. "Yes we are," she said, trying to sound menacing and succeeding brilliantly. "Don't you _ever_ do that again. Do you have _any idea_ how much of a panic there was when we found out Galatea was missing? And another thing…"


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Lunch With A Virus

Bright and early next second, Mouse knocked on the door to Galatea's room. "Rise and shine, Sugah," she called. "Get ready, then we'll have breakfast together. And then Ah have a little surprise for ya." Mouse waited for a reply.

"Just a minute," Galatea called sleepily from inside. Mouse tried to make sense of this statement as she listened to Galatea moving around in her room.

"A _minute?_" She blustered. "It can't take ya _that_ long to…" then she remembered that Galatea still thought in terms of User time.

Galatea came to more or less the same realization, from the opposite side, "A nannersecond" Galatea called crossly. "I meant a nannersecond."

"Nanosecond," Mouse corrected, stifling a chuckle behind her hand.

She waited for a few of the aforementioned nanoseconds while Galatea got herself ready. At last the door opened, and Galatea appeared, dressed and with her hair still damp from the shower.

They walked down the corridor together. "That shower is an ingenious device," Galatea said wonderingly. She hadn't lost her fascination with it since AndrAIa had first told her how it was used the day before. "I had some trouble with it, though. It was too cold and then it was too hot…"

"You'll get the hang of it," Mouse assured her. They entered a lift and took it down two levels to the PO mess hall. Ray, Phong and Dot were already there.

"Morning, ladies," the Surfer greeted the new arrivals. Dot looked up at them with a smile. Phong bowed politely. Galatea acknowledged each of them before taking a look around the mess hall.

"You can get breakfast over there," Dot said, pointing to the buffet line. "Just take what you want to eat. There's plenty to choose from."

Mouse, who felt the need for some breafast herself, accompanied Galatea to the buffet line. She found herself wondering exactly what birthday present Ray had found for her — her birthday was in less than a minute, and she didn't know if she could bear the suspense that long.

She noticed that Galatea was eyeing the breakfast food the same way she had regarded her lunch the second before. Mouse helped her out with some advice.

"Ever had a pancake before, hon? They're good with some syrup and butter on top," she suggested.

Galatea didn't answer for a few cycles. She was looking at the donuts. For some reason Mouse couldn't fathom, Galatea smiled and chuckled. Then she asked, "I shall try a pan-cake. Whatever that is."

After the morning meal, Galatea declared sincerely that it had been the best breakfast she'd ever eaten. Not only had she never had pancakes before; she'd never had oranges, either. Dot felt sorry for her — she was in such a good mood, and Dot was going to have to spoil it by telling her there was no way for them to get her home. She dreaded the moment as they went to the tech workshop, where Mouse's icon-modifying workstation was set up.

Galatea was under the impression that they were going outside to start patrols, since she didn't know her way around the Principal Office yet. "Well," she sighed, "I am as ready as I shall ever be for patrolling with Hexadecimal…"

"Uh-uh, hon," Mouse said, shaking her finger. "Remember that surprise Ah told you about? You don't have to spend quality time with Hex just yet." _'Quality time.' That's an interesting way of putting it,_ Dot thought. The sprites entered the workshop.

"Okay," Mouse said, "Galatea, we're gonna register you with the system."

"Register me?" Galatea repeated, looking confused.

It was time to break the news. Dot felt that it was best for her to do it. "Galatea," she said gently, "Listen. We can't get you back to where you came from. We don't have the means or the knowledge, and that's not likely to change. Since you're going to be here for a while, Phong and I decided last night…we're going to register you and make you a citizen of Mainframe." She had said it in the best way that she was able to.

Galatea looked at her solemnly. "I see," she said. She clasped her hands and looked at her feet, without saying anything else for a few moments. Then she looked at Dot again. "How is one registered for citizenship?" she asked.

Dot was surprised that Galatea had taken her pronouncement so well. Or maybe she had decided to process it later, on her own. Or something else was going on in her head. Whatever it was, she obviously didn't want to discuss it.

"We will need your icon," Phong said, moving things along. "And Dot's, to use as a template. Mouse will do the rest."

Galatea nodded and unpinned her icon from her clothes. The golden circle, engraved with a bird, glittered in the black triangle as she removed it. She handed the icon to Mouse, who took it from her gently. Mouse tapped a button on the worstation panel in front of her. Two three-pronged mechanical claws came out of the top. She put Galatea's icon in one of the claws; the prongs adjusted to hold it. Then she held out her hand for Dot's icon.

With a sigh, Dot removed her own icon and handed it to Mouse. The hacker put it in the other claw of the machine. Now Dot and Galatea's icons were back-to-back. The lights in their circuits, now visible, twinkled.

Mouse tapped buttons and adjusted dials on the control panel. She looked at the readout and nodded. "Initializing…now," she said, pressing a large red button. A beam of light appeared between the icons for a moment; then Galatea's icon changed into a standard Mainframe icon, like Dot's. Mouse handed the icons back to their respective owners. Dot put hers back on immediately, but Galatea didn't. She turned it over several times in the palm of her hand, examining it.

"You are now a citizen of Mainframe," Dot informed her. Galatea looked up at her as if startled. "Keep your icon with you at all times. It contains your personal identification numbers, which can be used to control you if they fall into the wrong hands."

"Your whole life will be on that icon, my child," Phong said gravely. "Guard it well. Do you understand?"

Galatea nodded as she put the icon back on. "Is…there a way to change it back, if I want to do that?" she asked.

"You can double-click it," Phong said. "Tap it twice," he clarified. Galatea did so, and it reverted to the icon she had had before.

Phong explained the icon to her. "It now contains the standard code of a Mainframe icon, as well as the code that was in it before. When it is in standard form, you will be able to reboot in Games and receive upgrades from the User. But your icon cannot do those things in its original form, as you have it now."

"I understand," Galatea said. She seemed very much aware of what had just been entrusted to her, and how important it was — even if she didn't comprehend the mechanism behind it. "I will be sure to take good care of it."

Satisfied, Dot nodded. "The others will be getting here soon," she said, getting off the subject of the icon. "Then I'll give them patrol orders for the day. And I got some new equipment that might help."

A quarter of a millisecond later, the sprites of Mainframe, along with the resident virus and robots, were gathered in the Office's briefing room. The room featured a long table lined with comfortable swivel chairs. At the head of the table was a larger chair where Dot was now sitting. Across from her, on the other side of the room, there was a screen, now blank. A large window, parallel with the table, looked out onto the system to her left — the door, locked to keep this meeting private, was set in the wall on her right.

Most of those gathered in the room were sitting in the chairs lining the long table, except for the robots, who were physically unable to sit. They stood at the foot of the table instead. The sprites were talking quietly among themselves, except for Hexadecimal, who was idly tracing abstract patterns on the tabletop with an index finger, and Galatea, who was sitting across from her. The newly registered sprite had her arms folded on the table. Her unfocused gaze was directed at the reflective tabletop.

"Okay people," Dot announced, calling the meeting to order. Everyone fell silent and looked at her. "Before we start searching today, I want to tell you all that I've found something that may help. There was a crate of old virus scanners left in one of the Office storehouses — a cleaning crew found it by accident."

More specifically, they had stumbled into the crate and knocked it over, causing it to break. It had been an old crate, not up to current regulations. User only knew how long it had been there. She made a mental note to have all the boxes they had stored up were checked and catalogued, after this was over.

"The scanners are obsolete, but they're the best we could get under current circumstances." Current circumstances being Daemon, which meant they couldn't get new ones from the Supercomputer. "We found viral residue in the places where it attacked binomes—the scanners have been updated with scans of that residue. So it'll be a little easier to find, at least."

"Won't they pick her up as well?" Matrix asked, jabbing a thumb in Hexadecimal's direction. The virus looked a little concerned, not to mention a bit miffed. Fortunately, she just stuck her tongue out at Matrix instead of saying anything.

"No," Dot assured her brother. "These were made before she was compiled. They're not programmed to recognize her." Hex, she noticed, nodded and looked relieved. "A lot of them weren't functioning after such a long period in storage, so I can only give one to each team. Now, for your patrol assignments. Matrix, AndrAIa, you're going on foot on Level 31 — most of the attacks so far have taken place there. Get Frisket to go with you, if you can."

Matrix and AndrAIa nodded. If the virus was hanging around that area, they were probably the best equipped to handle it (with the exception of Bob, naturally). Frisket would probably be able to help them find a trail, which was something the virus scanners couldn't do.

"Hack and Slash, you'll take G-Prime. Don't go on…" She couldn't really say 'don't go on foot.' Not only did they not have feet: they'd probably take her statement literally and get confused. "Well, fly around it. If you find something, contact Phong. Don't go after it yourselves."

"Yes ma'am," Hack saluted.

"Got it. Use the jets."

"Yeah, the jets."

"Not like last time."

"Don't want to get too close."

"Nope, not too close."

The robots quieted down when Dot cleared her throat loudly. She continued.

"Mouse, Ray, you watch Wall Street and Beverly Hills." The two sprites nodded. Those were two of the largest sectors in the city, and Ray at least could cover the area faster than anyone else. If he had to chase after the virus, his speed would be an advantage.

"Bob and I will patrol Baudway and Kits," she said. "Galatea and Hexadecimal, you examine Floating Point and Lost Angles." Although it was unlikely that their quarry would turn up in Hexadecimal's domain, since there was nothing for it to feed on, it was still possible. "I've got the CPUs keeping a tight guard on the Principal Office, and they've taken precautions to make sure that the virus can't come up through a drain or underground tunnel."

She stood up from the chair, placed her hands on the table palms down, and surveyed the group. "I don't need to remind you how important it is that we catch this thing quickly. We've put out a systemwide alert, but not everyone is staying in their homes, and even if they do they may not be safe. Eleven people have been attacked so far, and two of them deleted. Be very careful. That's all."

The search teams began to get up and head for the door. Bob stopped Galatea before she got out — he was going to teach her how to read the virus scanner (since Hex probably wouldn't want to carry it) and help her with other details. While Dot did not doubt that she meant well, she wasn't sure if it was prudent to have her help them search for the virus, or for that matter pair her with Hexadecimal. But she trusted Phong's decision — he had good reasons for everything he did. And Mouse had told her, earlier this morning, that while Mainframe was utterly alien to the newly arrived sprite, she was very quick on the upload. Since she was going to be spending the rest of her runtime here, she might as well start learning now.

Galatea and Hexadecimal had been patrolling over Floating Point Park for a few hours — milliseconds — now. Bob had told Galatea what sort of search pattern to use. She had let him, although she knew perfectly well how do to a patrol — she had been trained to. Adapting her lessons to her current situation wouldn't have been that difficult. But she liked Bob, who she considered a fellow knight and an equal, if not a superior — she didn't want to offend him.

Hexadecimal had been chattering to her as they made their sweeps over the hovering islands of Floating Point Park. She had dissuaded Galatea from going to Lost Angles, insisting that the "nasty thing" wouldn't dare enter her territory. Galatea took her at her word. She had come to the conclusion that Hexadecimal was really more childish than mad.

She was curious about the world that Galatea came from, and had disclosed some information about her own past, although she stated her recollections in a cryptic way and there were some things about which she would simply not go into detail. But Galatea found out about her brother, who was presumably deceased — deleted — in the Web. Hexadecimal gave the impression, through omission and signs of fright, that the Web was even worse than her brother had been, although Galatea could hardly imagine anyone worse than this Megabyte ostensibly was. Hexadecimal herself had only recently switched from being an enemy of the city to an ally, because of something Bob had done, but Galatea didn't understand exactly what"defragmenting" was. She'd have to ask Bob later, if she had time.

And Galatea told of her own past; she came from a noble family, of which she was the only survivor since her parents and siblings had died in the troll invasion a long time ago. As the last child of the family, she had been obligated to take up her father's sword — the one she carried now — and become a knight of the Order of Guardians as he had been. Her family history, she stated proudly, could be traced back for five centuries (Hexadecimal had interrupted here, not knowing what a century was, and Galatea estimated it at many weeks), and many of her ancestors had been brothers or sisters of the Order. She had only just been knighted, and had set off on a quest to retrieve the Holy Crown of Galadridd, when she had been transported to Mainframe.

As she was telling Hexadecimal about her kingdom, she heard a beeping noise, close by, which was repeated over and over. It seemed to be coming from Hexadecimal herself. The virus looked surprised, and suddenly produced a small, disc-shaped object from somewhere (Galatea could not tell where) about her person.

Hexadecimal smiled as she examined the thing and put it away. "That's our alarm watch," she explained, although that didn't do Galatea much good. "Dot set it. I think it's lunchtime now."

Galatea was indeed feeling hungry, although she couldn't tell if it was noonday (or whatever they called it here) since there was no sun to reckon by. "So we should go to the Principal Office for lunch? Or perhaps the Diner?" Galatea asked her.

But Hexadecimal had a different idea. "Why don't we go to my Lair instead," she suggested pleasantly. "We can have peanut-butter sandwiches. And I made biscuits." Galatea had been forming a good opinion of her odd companion, but now she wasn't so sure — anyone who would so casually call their residence a"lair" was someone to worry about.

"I'm…not sure if that's a good idea," Galatea said. She wasn't sure how she was going to get herself out of this one.

"Nonsense. It's perfectly fine," Hexadecimal said. "We can have lunch on the terrace!"

Before Galatea could protest, Hexadecimal grabbed her arm. Galatea felt a very strange, uncomfortable sensation that she could not put words to. All she knew for sure was that she and Hexadecimal were not where they had been a moment before. The zipboard Galatea had been riding was now on solid ground.

"This is the terrace," Hexadecimal said proudly. The first thing Galatea noticed was that there were dozens of colored blobs around. And they were _moving_. "Shoo," Hexadecimal said, flapping her hands about as if she were scattering chickens. The blobs, moving with surprising speed, darted into crevices and up walls and out of sight.

"Wait here while I get lunch," Hexadecimal instructed. Her body sort of scrunched itself into the white mask of her face, and then the mask was gone. It was the same way she had taken her leave when Galatea had met her for the first time. But nobody had said that Hexadecimal could transport a passenger that way. Galatea wondered what other details they had forgotten to tell her.

Getting over her initial disorientation, Galatea stepped off the zipboard and began examining her new surroundings. Hexadecimal's "terrace" appeared to be the top floor of a building made of brownish-gray metal whose roof had long ago fallen down, leaving it open to the sky. The walls were still intact, for the most part, and Galatea could not see anything outside other than the cloud-flecked blue above. She couldn't tell where she was in relation to the rest of the city, but she guessed that she was somewhere in Lost Angles, the island of ruins she had seen at a distance while on patrol.

The debris of the fallen roof had been piled up against the walls, leaving a cleared space in the center of which there stood a black wrought-iron (she assumed) table and three chairs of similar make and material. Galatea could not see a door or steps, so the only possible way out, for her, would be by zipboard. It would be rude to leave anyway, and if Hexadecimal could fly and do…whatever she had just done, there was no telling what else she was capable of. And Galatea didn't want to risk her displeasure.

Hexadecimal's mask reappeared, and the rest of her followed. She was carrying a tray balanced on one hand. She put it on the table, and waved to one of the chairs with her free hand. Not knowing what else to do, Galatea sat down in the indicated seat. Hexadecimal put the tray down. On it was a sweating glass pitcher of some golden liquid (cold tea, Galatea guessed), as well as two tall glasses filled with the same substance, each sporting a thin slice of some yellow fruit on the rim. There were also two large platters, the contents of which were hidden by metal covers.

Galatea's hostess sat down in the seat across the table. She took one cup from the tray and put it in front of Galatea, then took the other and brought it nearer to herself. "Iced tea," she declared. So Galatea had guessed correctly. "And now for the sandwiches…" Hexadecimal removed the cover from one of the platters.

Galatea had been expecting something at least mildly unpleasant, but the things described as peanut-butter sandwiches looked palatable enough—two slices of bread with some thick golden-brown stuff in the middle. Hexadecimal picked one up in her hand and took a bite. Galatea imitated her. The stuff in the sandwich was sticky and sweet. She decided that, if the sandwiches were all right, the tea would likely be safe too. She washed the bite of sandwich down with some of the tea from her glass. She was delighted (and relieved) to find that it too was good.

In between bites, Hexadecimal said, "It's _so_ nice to have a guest. Most of the people here don't like me. Although I'm trying to be good." She took a bite of sandwich, chewed, and swallowed. "Bob is the only one who's nice to me." This last was spoken in a startlingly serious and forlorn tone. Hexadecimal, looking melancholy, took another bite from her sandwich.

Galatea found herself feeling pity for this poor creature. Fortune had dealt her a poor lot indeed — she was obviously powerful, but for all her power she could find no friends. She was terribly lonely, and in a situation that was still strange to her. Galatea knew how that felt. But she didn't know what to say.

The two finished their sandwiches in silence. Then Hexadecimal brightened up. "Now for the biscuits!" she said enthusiastically, forgetting the sorrow of a moment ago. She took the cover off the other platter, on which was a small pile of palm-sized circular objects; the biscuits.

Although Galatea had braved the iced tea and sandwiches, it was only because they looked harmless. The biscuits looked positively _sinister_. They were decorated with frosting and colored sugar so that they resembled the Mainframe icon. But where the icon should have been white, it was instead red. For some reason Galatea found this very disturbing, in a way that she could not articulate.

"Try one," Hexadecimal insisted. Galatea wondered if she was more afraid of the biscuits than she was of upsetting her hostess — although her reasons for wanting to keep Hexadecimal in a good mood were not the same as they had been some minu— no, nanoseconds!—ago. She decided to risk it. She picked up a biscuit from the platter.

"_Warning: Incoming Game. Warning: Incoming Game._" The clear sky transformed into a boiling purple lighting storm. As a hole opened in the sky directly above, Galatea thought she could hear distant squealing, like that of distressed pigs.

"Eek!" Hexadecimal cried, startled. She compacted herself into her face again and vanished. Galatea was left alone. She saw a great purple block, crackling with energy, emerge from the hole above and descend upon her. _This must be one of those Game cubes Mouse told me about,_ she thought.

Mouse had warned her about Games, and advised her to stay away from them. Dropping the biscuit, Galatea ran to her zipboard, which she had left it on the ground earlier. She llifted it off the ground and stepped on it. But she had not moved fast enough — when she looked up again, the bottom of the Game cube was touching the tops of the surrounding walls. And it was coming down fast…

Hexadecimal materialized, mask first and body after, on Gilded Gate Bridge. Shortly after she had been registered she'd tried to play a Game, only to find out the hard way that her viral powers had little if any effect there. Since then, she had made it a point to avoid Games, even though playing them might have endeared her to Bob.

A flash of silver above caught her eye: it was Bob, flying toward the Game cube. She waved to him, but he didn't notice her. He managed to dart under the descending Game just before it touched down.

Only then did Hexadecimal realize that she had, in her panic, left Galatea alone on the terrace. Right in the path of the Game.

"Oops," she said to nobody in particular.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Losing the Past

Bob found himself on the rock ledge in front of the cave again — this was the Game that Galatea had come from. He knew the stats already, but he did a scan anyway to make sure that things were functioning properly this time. He found, much to his relief, that they were.

Having come to that conclusion, Bob tapped his icon and rebooted. The Game gave him a mace and a round shield, as well as some light armor in the form of a chainmail shirt, vambraces, boots and greaves. It wasn't as good as the User's equipment, but it would do. This wouldn't be too difficult. Since the path up the mountain went through a sharp turn before it reached the ledge, the User wouldn't be able to see Bob until it got there. He could take it by surprise and knock it off the cliff…

A sound from the rocky slope above the cave entrance got his attention. He saw a flash of motion there and assumed a defensive position, thinking that it might be some hostile Game sprite or the User taking a different route to the cave. But, as it turned out, it wasn't either of those.

"Galatea!" Bob exclaimed as she jumped down and landed beside him. "How did you get here?" Galatea hadn't rebooted, and was still wearing the same clothes she had worn outside. Bob quickly checked her icon — it was a golden circle in a black triangle. The thought came to him that she might have heard the conversation about her last night, and that she was intending to try and re-integrate herself with the Game. But his fears were baseless.

"I cannot reboot," she said, sounding worried. "I tried. And the zipboard does not seem to function here." She looked apologetic.

"You need to change your icon," Bob said. He wondered if she recognized her surroundings at all. What if she did?"

"I forgot," Galatea said. "I shall do it now." She tapped her icon, so it changed to the standard triangles-in-a-circle form. Then she rebooted, but did not seem to like the result.

"God's thumbs!" she exclaimed. Bob didn't understand the expression, but it was clearly one of displeasure. Galatea was now wearing a rather skimpy, midriff-bearing outfit of hides and fur pelts. She also wore sandals, the straps of which wound up nearly to her knee, and her weapon was a long spear. "I look like a savage!" she exclaimed.

"How did you get here?" Bob asked. Mouse had said she'd warned Galatea to stay away from Games.

Setting the butt of her spear on the ground, she smoothed back her hair with her free hand and sighed, preparing to give him an explanation. She told him, in brief, how she had ended up on Hexadecimal's terrace, unable to get out before the Game landed. "It was not her fault. I should have kept my zipboard closer to hand."

Bob shook his head. "I'm going to have to talk to her about…" he stopped in mid-sentence as Galatea held up a hand.

"Footsteps, coming up the path," she whispered. Now that she had brought it to his attention, he was able to make out the fairly rhythmic sound of metal on stone, getting closer and closer. _Oh, no._

"I'll deal with the User," Bob insisted quietly. "You should wait in the cave."

Galatea glared at him. "A knight does not run from battle," she declared as she turned to face the path onto the ledge, spear at the ready. Obviously, nothing short of physical force would keep her out of this. Bob could do nothing except take up a ready position at her side and prepare to face the User.

Although Bob had been expecting it, his stomach dropped when the User appeared from around the bend in the path and stepped onto the ledge. It was equipped with the same armor and weapons that Galatea had had upon her arrival in Mainframe — and the same icon, only not in the black triangle.

Galatea started in disbelief. She backed up as the User advanced, lifting its sword. She looked at Bob, then at the User, then at Bob again, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. She was completely unprepared for the User's attack.

The User took a swipe at Galatea with its sword, but missed her. Her bewilderment seemed to evaporate, and she used her spear like a staff, smacking the User's helmet with it. Bob joined the attack, using his mace to hit the User's helmet with a resounding _clang_. That proved to be a mistake, something he realized only when the helmet faded away. This was one of those games in which the User had armor points as well as hit points, and his attack with the mace had just depleted the armor points for the helmet. Now that it was gone, his fears were confirmed - the User was Galatea's double.

"Oh Lord…" whispered, her face turning ashen. The User, its face an expressionless copy of her own, struck out with its shield. Galatea, rendered completely off-balance by this horrible revelation, was knocked to the ground. She was still paralyzed, her gaze locked with that of the User, and made no move to defend herself as it lifted its sword…

But the User still had to deal with Bob. The Guardian leaped at Galatea's double, attempting to use his shield as a battering ram. But in his haste he tripped on a ridge of stone and ended up falling on top of the User, which lost its shield as it collapsed. Before he could recover, the User lashed out at him with an armored fist.

Pain exploded in Bob's jaw and stars danced before his eyes. He could taste energy welling up in his mouth, hear his mace clattering across the rock shelf as it spun out of his grip. As a Guardian, he was usually able to stand up to quite a lot of physical punishment without getting badly hurt. But Game code is quite powerful, and in this case it was more than he could take. The User shoved him roughly away, so that he rolled off of it and onto the ground. He tried to get up, but his head was swimming too much. He could see, as if through a tunnel, the User raising its sword to strike off his head.

Suddenly something came up and blocked it. The butt of Galatea's spear. The User turned to look at her — Bob managed to do the same.

Galatea had gotten to her knees. On her face was a scowl of such rage that it twisted Bob's insides to see it. She pulled back her spear and got to her feet in one swift motion. The User swung at her. She ducked, and, yelling a loud battle cry, swung at her opponent with her spear again, knocking it squarely on the chest. The User stumbled backward a few steps, towards the end of the rock ledge and a near-vertical drop. Galatea started attacking it in a berserk rage, forcing it backward bit by bit.

"Hit its icon!" Bob shouted despite the pain in his jaw. But Galatea didn't seem to hear him. Maybe she couldn't. She just kept battering the User with her spear. Bob pulled himself to his feet, using the rock wall of the cliff for support, but when he tried to stand up on his own and retrieve his mace his head swam and he had to lean against the rock wall again to keep from falling over.

Galatea had now backed the User up to the very edge of the rock ledge — it tried to stand its ground, but Galatea kept raining blows on it with her spear. Finally, it lost its balance, teetered on the edge of the rock, and then fell over backwards. Galatea stood, frozen in a defensive posture, catching her breath as she peered over the ledge. Bob then heard the sound of metal scraping against rock, and saw Galatea collapse like a puppet whose strings had been severed.

She would have followed the User over the edge of the cliff, except that the Game ended just in time to keep that from happening. "_Game Over._" Suddenly they were in Lost Angles, at the foot of Hexadecimal's tower, and the cube was shooting up into the sky. Then it was gone, and all was calm again.

Since the rock wall Bob had been leaning on was gone, he collapsed to his hands and knees. He looked over at Galatea, who was sprawled on the ground. Feeling cold panic well up in his chest, Bob crawled over to her and managed to turn her over so that she was lying on her back. She was still processing, and had no visible injuries, but all the color seemed to have been drained from her skin and she seemed to be breathing shallowly. And when Bob put his hand to her neck to measure her pulse, he could barely feel it.

He heard the sound of a zipboard nearby and looked up to see Matrix descending towards him. The renegade jumped off his zipboard and helped Bob to his feet. "It landed before I could get in," he explained. As he took in the state of Bob and Galatea, his face filled with grim conern. "What happened to you two? She was supposed to stay away from Games." After making sure that Bob could stand on his own, he knelt to check on Galatea.

"The User hit me," Bob explained, gently prodding his jaw to determine the extent of his injury. "I'll be all right but…I don't know what happened to her. She just…"

"Oh dear!" Bob spun around at Hexadecimal's voice and regretted it even as he did so, since it caused another flash of pain and nausea in his head. The virus floated to a touchdown near Matrix. "Did she get hurt?" She looked at Bob, and gasped. "_You_ got hurt!" She approached him, looking worried, and lifted a hand to touch his face.

Bob backspaced a step. "She told me that you left her when the Game cube came down," he said flatly. Matrix didn't speak, but the way he was glaring at Hexadecimal said it all.

"I didn't _mean_ to leave her!" Hex insisted. "We had lunch. On the terrace. Then the Game came, and I was afraid I'd get in trouble the way I did in the last one, so I left, but I forgot to…I'm sorry," she said in a wavering voice, looking ashamed. "I did something bad." She looked at Bob pleadingly.

Matrix had expanded his zipboard — he was getting up onto it, with Galatea cradled in his arms. "I think we should get her to the Principal Office. I don't know what's wrong with her…"

"I can take her," Hex offered desperately, trying to make up for her mistake. At this, Matrix piloted the zipboard further away from her.

"I don't think you should," Bob said gently. "Matrix can take her. And in a few nanos I'll be able to get back myself. You can keep patrolling the Park. Do you know where the scanner is?" If he gave Hex something to do, she might be distracted enough to stay out of their way for a while.

"It's…on the terrace," Hexadecimal said. She looked down at her feet. "Please tell her I'm sorry. I'll go now," she said softly. She uploaded herself into her mask and was gone.

"I can't believe you let her off after what she just did," Matrix growled. "I would have…"

"I don't think yelling at her would have done any good," Bob interrupted. "It never seems to. Besides, she knows she made a mistake, and she's already sorry for it."

The two sprites just looked at each other for a moment. Matrix didn't argue the point. "You should call a CPU to take you to the Principal Office. If you're having trouble standing, it's probably not a good idea to try flying. And Dot's going to go random over this as it is."

"I will," Bob agreed. "Just take care of her. I'll be all right." Matrix nodded, ascended and flew off.

Bob VidWindowed for a CPU to pick him up, then to Dot to tell her what had happened and assure her (several times) that he wasn't that badly injured. He insisted that she not worry about him.

Although his head hurt terribly, he wasn't too concerned about himself — he was worried about Galatea, and wondered what had happened to her. And he was anxious about what he was going to say to her when — or if — she woke up.

The Principal Office medic, a calm and businesslike numeral three, had given Bob a bandage and a cold compress for his chin, as well as something for the pain. A scan revealed that there had been no wireframe damage, but he did have a minor concussion. The skin on the right side of his jaw had some small cuts from the edges of the User's gauntlets, and a nasty bruise the color of a Game cube. Bob found some ironic humor in that. The doctor had told him not to put undue stress on the affected area, to avoid intense physical activity, and to stick to soft foods for the next minute or so. The Guardian had managed to convince Dot that he would be all right, so she had, reluctantly, gone to continue patrolling Baudway and Kits, after getting Bob to promise that he would rest for the remainder of the second at least.

After his own exam, Bob went to a private room in the intensive-care section of the medlab, where Galatea had been placed. Phong was there, reading the data from Galatea's medical scans on a nearby console. He looked up as Bob came in.

"How is she? Any idea what happened to her?" Bob asked.

Phong adjusted his glasses. "The scans say that she has suffered no physical injury. But she appears to be in a state of shock. Her energy pressure is low and there is little neural net activity." Bob looked over at her where she lay on the bed. The expression on her face was not the serenity of downtime, but the blank and grave mask of a sprite incapacitated by sickness. Her skin was almost as white as the blanket that covered her, and he had to strain to see the minute movements that told him she was still breathing.

"Perhaps I was wrong to have her work with Hexadecimal. I thought it would be an effective way of disciplining her for sneaking out of the Principal Office last second, but it seems that I put her in danger…" He extended his neck to peer over the console at her.

"It wasn't your fault," Bob assured him. "It was mostly bad luck that she got caught in a Game, and that one in particular. As for Hexadecimal, I don't think she did it on purpose, although it _was _selfish of her."

Phong retracted his neck and shook his head. "I had begun to think that we could trust her to act a little more sensibly than _that_ at least."

"I heard that something happened to Galatea," little Enzo's voice came from the doorway. "Is it okay if I come in and see her?"

Bob and Phong turned to look at the young sprite, who wore an uncharacteristically serious expression. After exchanging a glance with Phong, he nodded and gestured for Enzo to come in. The boy walked up, slowly, and looked at the Guardian.

"Looks like it didn't go so well for you either," Enzo said. "What happened?"

Bob sighed. "The User was wearing gauntlets," he said. He turned to look at the unconscious sprite on the medical bed. "And the User looked just like her. She saw it. She didn't take it well." That was an understatement, but it was the best explanation he could offer to Enzo, especially since he wasn't sure of precisely what had happened either.

The young sprite went up to Galatea's bedside at looked gravely at her face. His quiet, subdued behavior was making Bob very uncomfortable. He wondered if he should have let Enzo in after all — this might be a little too much for a child to deal with.

"I'll stay here until she wakes up," Enzo said firmly. He looked at Bob and then explained. "You have to go help Dot look for the virus, and Phong has to be in the war room in case someone needs him. But I can stay here. She needs someone to be here when she wakes up."

Enzo wasn't being whiny or obstinate, but somehow his being reasonable was worse than either of those. "I don't think you should stay," Bob said.

"Why not?" Enzo asked in a defiant tone of voice.

Phong explained it to him. "Child, she has suffered a terrible shock. I do not know how she will act when she wakes up. She may be very angry or panicked. She may try to hurt someone, or even herself, and you could not stop her. But since Dot has told Bob to stay here for his own recovery, he can remain with Galatea. Perhaps you should ask your sister if she needs your help. If you promise to be careful, and not to get close to the virus if you find it, she might let you." Bob nodded in agreement. That might satisfy Enzo, at least a little, and keep him occupied.

He couldn't read the expression on Enzo's face. After a few moments the boy nodded. "Okay. I'll ask her." He looked down at Galatea. "Get well soon," he said. He turned to Bob. "You too. Promise you'll me when she wakes up."

"I promise," Bob said. "And tell your sister that I'm feeling better and I'll be waiting here." He was relieved that Enzo had accepted his suggestion instead of protesting. The young sprite agreed, and left the room, although he obviously did so with great reluctance.

After he left, Bob said, "He's taking this really hard. I'm kind of surprised — he hasn't known her that long."

"She saved his life," Phong pointed out. "He has a good reason for being concerned. Are you sure you want to wait with her? One of the doctors can…"

Bob shook his head. "It would be better if it were someone she knows. And there's not much else I can do right now."

Phong nodded. "I shall return to the war room," he said, "in case I am needed. Tell me if anything changes," he said. He bowed and rolled out the door.

The Guardian looked down at the bed and sighed. There was an uncomfortable-looking chair next to the bed. He sat himself down in it, placed his left elbow (the one closest to the bed) on the armrest, and set his chin (carefully) on the heel of his left hand. Bob prepared himself for a long wait.

Well, he thought, things certainly looked bleak. Several binomes had been injured and two of them were deleted. They had yet to find a way of catching the party responsible for it. He himself was hurt and out of commission for the time being. Hexadecimal, who had been making progress towards being accepted by the sprites in Mainframe, had everyone mad at her again. And Galatea had been convinced, in the worst possible way, of what she really was.

After a few milliseconds which seemed like hours, the console by Galatea's bed started to beep, indicating a change in her vital signs. Bob, who had been lost in a reverie of his own, nearly jumped out of his chair at the unexpected noise. A binome nurse rushed in to check the readouts, her eyeblock moving back and forth as she scanned them. She pressed some buttons and the beeping stopped.

"She's settled into normal downtime now," the nurse explained, "Which means she's recovering." Bob looked over at the sprite on the bed. The color had come back to her skin — it had returned to its usual light pinkish color, no longer blank white. Galatea was taking deeper breaths, too, and her face looked serene and relaxed.

"It's best to let her wake up on her own," the nurse said, doing a final check on the readouts.

"Any idea when that will be?" Bob asked. It had been exactly three milliseconds, twenty-two nanoseconds and fourteen cycles since she had been bought in. Being merged with his keytool was that he was able to keep track of time with pinpoint accuracy.

The nurse shook her eyeblock. "Hard to tell, sir. But it will probably be a long time. I estimate about half a second."

Half a second. Which meant she would sleep until next second, at least. Bob was, by format and experience, a patient sprite, but that bit of information made him more anxious than he already was. He couldn't spend the rest of the second here, of course, but he didn't know if he would be able to log off with the situation as it stood. Enzo had been right — Galatea would need a familiar face to look at when she woke up. What if nobody was there when…

Hexadecimal's white mask suddenly appeared in front of him, startling both him and the nurse. The mask turned to face Bob, and the rest of Hexadecimal expanded from it. She was holding the virus scanner, a bulky thing about a quarter the size (and weight) of an adult one binome's eyeblock.

The Chaos virus looked around the room. "Patrol time is over," she said. "I came to check. On you and her," she explained. Her eyes were glowing blue, as they did when she was sad or concerned. She made no apology for suddenly popping in like that, but that came as no surprise to Bob.

"Hex," he said patiently, "Next time, please come in through the front door. You scare people when you do that."

Hex's brow wrinkled. "Why?" she asked. "It's faster my way."

"It's more considerate," Bob said. "Does Phong know you're here? You should report to him and give the scanner back." She should have gone there first, but to Hexadecimal Bob was the only authority figure in the system. He was trying to teach her to show some respect to Phong and Dot, but he had been making little progress on that front. The nurse, he noticed, had left at some point during this conversation.

"I wanted to visit you first," she said. "And nobody told me what happened. In the Game." She looked at Bob expectantly.

He sighed. Hexadecimal wouldn't be satisfied until she had an answer. "The Game was the same one that Galatea came from," he said. "She saw the User, who looked just like her. It attacked her, and she was too startled to react at first. I stepped in, and it punched me," he said, touching the bruise on his jaw, lightly, with a fingertip. "And then she just went random on it. She deleted the User, and then she collapsed."

Hexadecimal was leaning over the bed, peering intently at Galatea. "She looks a little better," Hexadecimal said. "Will she wake up soon?"

"I don't think so," Bob said. "The nurse said it would be better to let her wake up on her own."

He was afraid that Hexadecimal would try to wake Galatea anyway. The virus paused for a few cycles, then straightened up. She looked at Bob. "What about you? Do you feel better? You didn't look very well before. I know a very good…"

"I'm better," Bob assured her quickly , "But it will take me a few seconds to make a full recovery." He switched the subject. "You had better give the scanner back to Phong."

Hexadecimal looked at the scanner in her hand, as if she had forgotten she was holding it — which was probably the case. "Okay," she said. "I'll be right back."

"And please…" Bob began, but Hexadecimal uploaded herself into her mask and was gone before he could finish. "…walk there," the Guardian finished weakly. He shook his head.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Plan of Attack

In the war room, Frisket started growling. Little Enzo, who had joined Dot on patrol as Bob had suggested, turned to ask the dog what was bothering him at the same time Matrix did. Neither managed to get the question out, however, before Hexadecimal's mask appeared and she downloaded herself from it. Frisket, no longer growling but still wary, watched her.

Hexadecimal seemed oblivious to the glares of the others in the room. She walked up to Phong, and held out her scanner. "I didn't find anything," she said. Phong carefully took the scanner from her. Hexadecimal uploaded herself into her mask again as soon as she had handed it to him. Frisket relaxed; so did everyone else.

"Did anyone manage to find a trace of the Absorber?" Phong asked. He didn't sound too hopeful. There was a shaking of heads and a chorus of responses, all of them in the negative.

Matrix gave them his opinion of the situation. "That thing is pretty spa…" Dot's glare cut him off before he could say "spammed." He cleared his throat and revised what he had intended to say. "There's been no trace of it. Frisket couldn't even pick up a trail from the most recent attack site."

"It is quite elusive," Phong said. "But we have been fortunate in one way at least. There have been no further casualties since last second. Thank the User for small favors."

"Those are the only kind the User seems to give us," Enzo remarked dolefully.

"This isn't working," AndrAIa said. "We need a way to draw it out. And we have to figure out how to catch it."

"Or delete it," Matrix added.

"Galatea's sword can hurt it," Enzo pointed out. This just reminded everyone of the disaster that had taken place earlier that second, and made them feel even worse. Nobody said anything.

One of the war room doors — the one nearest the group — opened, and Bob entered to join them. He looked as unhappy as Enzo felt. "Galatea's asleep. Normal asleep, not just unconscious." he informed them. "But she probably won't wake up for a while. Any luck today?"

"The virus didn't attack anyone else," AndrAIa said. "Otherwise, no luck whatsoever."

"We have to figure something out," Dot said. "There's got to be a way to _beat_ that thing. Okay. Let's take this from the top. What exactly do we know about it?"

"It's like a giant black null," Enzo said. "That sums it up."

Dot's eyes widened. "A null! Why didn't I think of it before?" She turned to Bob. "It's too bad Hexadecimal left already." This earned her an odd look from everyone present, and a questioning "Arf?" from Frisket. Enzo was just as confused as his dog — why would his sister _want_ to talk to Hexadecimal? Then he made the connection.

"You think she can control the virus the way she controls nulls?" he asked.

"Maybe not _control_ it," Dot said. "But attract it, at least. If it's drawn to energy the way nulls are, she can help us trap it. _If_ she'll cooperate with us."

"Well," Bob said, "I just spoke to her in the medlab, but she left. She didn't say where she was going. But I could…"

"Bob," Dot said, touching the Guardian on the shoulder. "This can wait until next second. You need to rest…no arguments," she said sternly as Bob opened his mouth to protest, "and I need to come up with a working plan. _Then_ we'll talk to her about it."

Bob looked at her for a few cycles, as if considering. "Okay," he agreed. "You're right. We all need some rest — we'll work out the details tomorrow."

Dot dismissed everyone. She was going to stay at the Office overnight again, but she would take Enzo home first. Enzo wanted to stay with her: she insisted that he should go back home instead, and not by himself. Bob offered to take him home as he had before, but Dot was worried about Bob's injury, and wanted the Guardian to go straight home in a CPU or by some other means of transport.

"You shouldn't be flying _anywhere_ for now. You have a head injury," Dot insisted. "What if you get dizzy? You might fall or…"

Bob was obviously embarrassed by Dot's display of concern. "Dot, I'm not feeling dizzy at all anymore. I'm not going to…"

"How do you know something's not going to happen?" the threw up her hands.

Enzo was never going to get home at this rate. "Hey guys, how about I go home on my own while you two work this out?" He was only half-joking.

"_No_" his sister said, turning to him with her hands on her hips. "You already got yourself in major trouble once this minute." Bob was looking up at the ceiling with a forlorn expression. Enzo felt the same way. He hated it when Dot mothered him.

Ray and Mouse had not left yet — they had just finished their own conversation nearby. "I'll take 'im home," Ray volunteered, "Since it looks like you two'll be arguing 'till next second." Mouse chuckled. Enzo was relieved. He turned to the Surfer.

"Thanks," Enzo said. He looked at Dot, to check if this arrangement suited her. She nodded to him. Enzo waved goodbye to his sister and Bob before leaving the war room with Mouse and Ray.

"Ah know you don't like it, Sugah," Mouse said, "But she's just lookin' out for you. You can't blame her for bein' concerned."

"I know, I know," Enzo sighed. "But why does she have to treat me like I'm only 00?"

Dot was awakened from a restless sleep by a beeping noise. Opening her eyes, she perceived that the noise was coming from a call device on the table beside her bed. Something important was happening, then. She sat up, got off the bed and stood, changing her clothing protocol from pyjamas to her work uniform. After doing the best she could to smooth her hair with her hands, she tapped the call device, and a VidWindow opened before her, showing the face of one of the nurses in the medlab.

"You asked to be notified, ma'am," the one binome said. "She's waking up."

"Be right there," Dot said. She closed the VidWindow and left her quarters, heading at a brisk pace for the medlab.

By the time Dot had reached the medlab, Galatea was fully awake. Dot came in to see her double-click her icon, changing her clothing format from hospital clothes to her usual brown garb. She was arguing with the nurse.

"I am _not_ going to lie back down. I have been lying down for quite some time already. Where is my sword?" She finally noticed Dot.

"Galatea, we need to talk…" she began.

"Lady Dot," she said, standing up and bowing respectfully. "I am sorry for the disturbance, but I mislike being without my sword."

"It's in your quarters," Dot informed her, trying to keep a patient and even tone of voice. "We can go get it. We'll talk on the way."

"But ma'am," the nurse protested. "We need to do a scan on her before she leaves, just to make sure…" Galatea shot the binome a look that Dot had only ever seen on Matrix when he was about to get very, very angry. The nurse froze in terror, then gulped audibly. "Or..m-maybe not," she stuttered. "If you f-feel all right, I suppose you can g-go."

Galatea's expression softened. The nurse breathed a sigh of relief as Galatea turned to Dot. Dot sighed. "All right. Let's go to your quarters. I'll talk with you along the way."

Galatea nodded. She and Dot left the room and went into the medlab proper, then into the corridor. Here there were windows — one could see that the sky outside was a dark blue-black. "What didst thou wish to discuss with me, Lady?" Galatea asked.

"Well I…um." Dot didn't know how to phrase what she wanted to say. "I heard about what happened in the Game. But I wanted to know…what you're going to do about it."

They had been walking quickly, but Galatea halted her stride and turned to look Dot in the eye. "There is not much I can do," she said quietly. "Not about that, in any case. I shall deal with it in good time. But there is a more pressing problem at hand than mine." She started walking again, though more slowly this time.

"What do you mean?" Dot demanded of her. "I think your problem is pretty serious."

They came to the door to Galatea's quarters. Galatea put her hand on the panel beside it and the door slid open. The room was dark, and Galatea couldn't find the button to turn on the lights. Dot located it and pressed it. The lights came on, and Galatea smiled as she caught sight of her sword, in its scabbard, lying on a table by the window. She went to it, picked it up, and examined it before putting it back down. Dot stood near the door, watching from the other side of the room. Galatea turned to look out the window for a moment, then she turned back to face Dot.

"I have come to a conclusion," Galatea informed Dot. "It is difficult to explain but…Mouse told me about how some sprites have particular functions that they must fulfill. They are bound to follow a…a set of rules, or a code of honor, as Bob does. It is part of his nature to mend and defend."

"It's the Guardian protocol," Dot said. "It's part of his programming." She wasn't sure what Galatea was getting at.

"That is what I am trying to say." Galatea closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, thinking of what to say next. "I must follow my code of honor, regardless of what I am. I cannot be any other way. So as to what I am going to do now…" she shrugged. "I am going to be myself. What else can I do?"

Dot walked over to her, slowly. "I understand what you're saying," she said.

"So despite what has happened, Lady, I will aid thee still, until the threat to thy people is gone," Galatea declared confidently. "My code of honor dictates that I must."

Dot was surprised. "That's what Bob always says. Although not quite the same way," she amended. She thought for a moment. "If you feel that strongly about it…then I'll be glad to have your help."

Galatea smiled and bowed to the "My thanks, Lady. I shall serve thee as best I can."

Dot returned her smile. She wasn't quite sure if she was doing the right thing, but if Galatea really was programmed to be that way — and to all appearances, she was — then there was no point in refusing to let her help. Not if it was in her code.

Mouse and Ray were pleasantly surprised to see Galatea in the mess hall the next morning. She seemed genuinely cheerful and none the worse for her experience the day before.

"Lady Dot has a plan for defeating the virus," she said to Mouse between bites of a cheese omelet. "Although she has not yet given me the details."

"Dot told us she had a notion, hun," Mouse said. "And she needs Hexadecimal's help for it. Never thought I'd see the second…"

Galatea's expression was one of mild surprise. "She does seem to…dislike Hexadecimal. Intensely."

Ray shook his head. "That hardly covers it. The way she feels about Hexadecimal…isn't a topic for polite conversation, if you know what I mean." He managed to give her a significant glance, despite his smoked goggles.

"I understand that Hex did some…bad things in the past. But she is trying very hard to atone for her sins, although her attempts are not succeeding well," Galatea said.

"It's not just what she _did,_ hun," Mouse clarified. "It's what she wants to do now."

Galatea raised an eyebrow as she chewed a bite of omelet. She swallowed, and put the fork down. "So it is a matter of jealousy, then?"

"Bingo," Mouse said. Ray nodded agreement. "But how'd you figure that one out?"

Galatea leaned back in her chair, interlacing her fingers and setting her hands in her lap. "Hexadecimal was _quite_ talkative yesterday," she explained, rolling her eyes.

Matrix and AndrAIa were in the meeting room they had used the previous morning. Phong, Bob and the robots were there as well. Frisket was napping on the floor next to Matrix's chair. The door opened, and Mouse and Ray joined them, with little Enzo in tow. AndrAIa caught the momentary grimace on Matrix's face, but touched his arm gently to keep him from saying anything.

"Dot and Galatea will be here in a nano," Ray announced. There were expressions of surprise from most of the assembled dataforms, except for Phong, who had been informed earlier.

Enzo's face lit up. "She's better? Is she going to help us get the virus?"

"Enzo, I don't think anythin' short of a filelock is gonna stop her," Mouse said with a grin. "She an' Dot are just havin' a conversation outside. They'll be here in…"

The door opened, admitting Dot and Galatea. The latter was instantly intercepted by young Enzo and his dog, and received with a chorus of enthusiastic greetings by everyone else, including Matrix and the robots. She seemed a little embarassed by all the attention. Bob, who was sitting next to the head of the table, leaned in to speak to Dot as the took her seat. AndrAIa listened in on their quiet conversation.

"Are you sure she's going to be okay?" he asked. "You saw what happened yesterday…"

"I talked with her about it," Dot said. "She insisted. She said she had an obligation to help us." Dot paused. "To sum it up, she can't go against her code."

A startled noise from Bob. "She _what?_ Dot, she's a Guardian in her Game, but she's not…well, she's not a Guardian here. And she knows it."

"She does. It doesn't change anything," Dot said firmly. "I don't understand it either, but…well, that's just how it is. She's dealing with it in her own way."

The two of them broke off their conversation as Galatea took her seat. Then AndrAIa noticed that someone was missing from this gathering. "Where's Hexadecimal? Isn't she supposed to be here?"

There was a murmur of surprise and concern around the table. Dot frowned. "The one time I want her around…Bob, can you VidWindow her?"

Unlike the rest of them, Bob could call up a VidWindow at will — it was one of Glitch's many functions. He nodded, and a VidWindow sprang into existence before him. It should have showed him a view of Hexadecimal's Lair, as seen through her looking glass, but all it showed was a black screen with the letters "BRB" blinking in its center.

"She's not taking calls," Bob said, closing the VidWindow. He sighed. He would have to go to Lost Angles and speak with her face-to-mask, and he didn't relish the prospect of doing so.

Dot sighed in exasperation. "I'll get a CPU…"

"No," Bob insisted. "That might upset her…more. And I'm pretty sure I can go on my own. I think that would be best."

From the way they were looking at each other, they seemed to have forgotten about everyone else in the room. Hexadecimal was always a touchy subject. Nobody spoke for a few cycles.

"Excuse me, Lady Dot," Galatea said softly. She cringed a bit as everyone looked at her. "Thou shouldst let him go. He will be fine."

"I just don't want him to go alone," Dot said, spreading her hands.

"I shall go with him, an it please you," Galatea said, standing up. "Hexadecimal and I…we have an understanding of sorts," she said.

Dot peered at her for a few moments, as if straining to read between the lines. Then she nodded. "Okay," she said. "You two go together and bring her here. If we want to catch this thing…we're going to need her help."

Bob stood up, nodding thankfully at Dot. Galatea bowed to Phong and the before joining Bob at the door. AndrAIa caught her gaze for a moment and nodded to her. Galatea smiled back, and followed Bob out of the room.

Bob breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him. With Galatea following him, he made his way toward the nearest lift. "Thanks," he said to Galatea as they entered the lift. The doors closed. He pressed the button that would take them down to ground level, from which they could exit the Principal Office. The lift began to move.

"I thought it was the best solution for all concerned," Galatea remarked. The lift doors opened, and the two of them walked out. "I do not yet know the details of Lady Dot's plan…"

"Neither do I," said Bob. "But if Hexadecimal is a part of it, it's going to be _very_ interesting. One way or another."

"Fie on such ill thoughts!" Galatea chided him. "I am sure that Hexadecimal and Lady Dot can forget their enmity for a little while at least."

"You're sure. But you don't know them like I do," Bob answered.

They left the corridor they had been following and went into a much larger one. It was big enough for two CPUs to fly through side by side, with room to spare. Bob turned to walk along it, to the nearest exit door, which led out onto one of the bridges that connected the Principal Office with the system outside.

Once they had gotten out of the building, Galatea maximized her zipboard and mounted it. Bob rose into the air once Galatea was secure on the zipboard, and as he ascended he turned to face Floating Point Park, where the Gilded Gate Bridge linked Lost Angles to the rest of Mainframe. When he had enough altitude to clear the top of the Principal Office, he began moving in that direction, going slowly since he wasn't sure how well Galatea could handle her zipboard. She seemed comfortable at the pace he was setting, and flew alongside him.

"Sir Bob," she said, getting his attention. He turned his head to face her.

"Please, just call me 'Bob.' I'm more comfortable with that," he told her.

"My apologies," she said. "I'm just curious, what is that sphere floating above the Principal Office, and why is it there?"

"It's the pinnacle," Bob explained. "Every system has one, although the size and shape of the pinnacle differs from one system to another. It's the highest thing in the system, as a rule." Megabyte's Silicon Tor had broken that rule, but of course that was Megabyte's style.

Galatea turned her head to look back at it, although she did not change her course or speed — that made Bob a little nervous. Galatea turned to face him again after a few moments. "It _is _taller than all the other buildings. I never noticed before. What does it do, exactly?" she asked.

"Well, there's equipment inside it that can be used to make portals to other systems," Bob said. "And when the User sends us an upgrade, it goes to the pinnacle. Then we can sink the pinnacle down into the Principal Office and install the upgrade from there."

Bob spent the rest of the journey answering Galatea's many questions about how the system worked. Every answer he gave generated more questions, about portals, tears, Games, the Core, viruses…the Guardian, much to his surprise, found it difficult to answer some of her queries. He had known about these things for as long as he could remember, and the things she questioned him about were so run-of-the-program, so normal, that he had difficulty finding words to describe them. Bob was in the middle of explaining the concept of the Net when they reached the Lost Angles side of Gilded Gate Bridge. He stopped, and Galatea halted her zipboard.

"We'll have to finish this conversation later. We should descend — Hexadecimal doesn't like it when people fly around here," Bob apologized. Galatea nodded, somewhat regretfully, and they began to descend towards the ground. Bob touched down first. "Don't get off the zipboard. Just hover around here."

Galatea looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Why?"

"Because of the nulls," Bob said, pointing at one of the little squeaking blobs. Galatea looked at the one he was indicating, a red one, and then at some of the others that were milling around.

"I saw some of these creatures," Galatea said, "On the terrace yesterday. They do not look dangerous…"

"Don't touch them. They drain energy," Bob warned her, "Like the virus that almost got Enzo. He said it looked like a giant black null. That's why we need Hexadecimal's help — she can control the nulls, so maybe she can help us with the Absorber virus."

"Oh," Galatea said, nodding. "I understand." A purple null with green stripes crawled under her zipboard, lifting one of its ends (presumably its head, or the equivalent) up to examine her. Galatea moved a little higher up to make sure that it couldn't touch her. "And thee? Are the nulls dangerous to thee?"

"No." Bob shook his head. "They can drain energy through clothes, but not through my armor, and I'm not going to touch them with my hands. C'mon, Hex's Lair is this way." He began walking toward the large tower that stood brooding over the ruins, being careful not to step on the nulls as he went. Galatea glided alongside him on her zipboard. They reached the tower in a few nanoseconds. There was no way in — Hexadecimal could let them into her Lair, if she chose to, but she either had not seen them or wasn't taking visitors. Bob looked at the tower and sighed. He didn't know what to do next.

"God's thumbs!" Galatea exclaimed behind him. "What's _that_?"

Bob turned around and saw that she was pointing at something. Looking in the direction she was indicating, he saw Scuzzy, Hex's familiar, peeking out from behind a wall.

"Umm…hi, Scuzzy," he said nervously. After a moment the little creature whizzed over to Bob, then tilted itself so it was looking up at his face. Scuzzy's frown was making Bob feel very uncomfortable. "Can you please…tell Hexadecimal that we want to talk to her?" Scuzzy wobbled up and down, as if he were nodding, then zipped off and vanished.

"That is…Hexadecimal's pet?" Galatea asked, looking in the direction that Scuzzy had gone. Bob nodded.

Suddenly a sinkhole began to open below Galatea's zipboard. She jerked backward in surprise. As the hole widened, it became obvious that it was the mouth of a tunnel, the other end of which was somewhere below Hexadecimal's tower. When the hole stopped widening, Bob ascended into the air again and then floated down into it, gesturing for Galatea to follow him. She did so, albeit a little hesitantly. At least Hex wasn't just sucking them in the way she used to do.

After Bob had gone some distance down the tunnel, he could no longer see the light from the entry behind him, but there was a pinpoint of yellow light in front of him — that would be Hexadecimal's Lair. He floated towards it, careful not to bump into the sides of the tunnel as he went. He exited the tunnel, emerging into the chamber that Hexadecimal had made her home.

She was sitting on her throne, facing them. As they floated in and touched down on the platform before her, she stood up, opened her arms in a gesture of welcoming and smiled. She stepped down from the dais to talk to them.

"Bob! Galatea! I'm _so_ glad that you're both better!" She turned to speak to Galatea, now looking rather ashamed and apologetic, her eyes blue. "I'm very sorry about last second. I was scared of the Game — I don't like Games. I came to visit you but you were asleep." She faced Bob. "Isn't that right, Bob? You _were _supposed to tell me when she woke up."

Bob exchanged a look with Galatea, then shrugged his shoulders. He turned back to Hexadecimal. "I'm sorry. She woke up last night, and I was asleep. I didn't know myself until this morning."

"I am sorry for not informing thee," Galatea apologized, "But I did not know. And it was rather late at night — I did not wish to disturb thee."

Hexadecimal, her eyes green again, waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "It would have been perfectly all right, dear. I don't sleep." She smiled sweetly. "I'm glad to know that you're all right. You _did_ look rather…"

Bob, sensing that Galatea didn't like where the conversation was heading, cleared his throat loudly. Hexadecimal startled and looked at Bob — he narrowed his eyes a little, hoping that she would get the hint. She did, and switched the subject. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Bob opened his mouth to speak, but it was Galatea who related the purpose of their visit. "I fear 'tis not simply for the pleasure of thy company, this time," Galatea said in an apologetic and, Bob thought, admirably persuasive voice. "We need thee at the meeting. Why didst thou not attend?"

Hexadecimal's eyes turned blue again, and her face fell. With a sad expression, she looked at her feet, linked her hands behind her back, and began tracing some design on the floor with the tip of a foot, the way Enzo did when he had been caught doing something bad. "Everyone was so _mad _at me yesterday," Hexadecimal lamented. "I didn't think they'd want me back. So I didn't go."

Galatea made a sympathetic face, and Bob had to work very hard so as not to laugh. "But we need thy help. Lady Dot has a plan to capture the virus, but she will need thee to assist in implementing it…"

Oops. That had been the wrong thing to say. Hexadecimal's eyes were red, her fists clenched at her sides, her posture stiff and bristling. The frown on her face was positively fearsome. She stated, in rather shocking language, what Dot could do with her plan as far as she herself was concerned. Bob had never heard her use such words before, and was rather taken aback.

He wasn't sure if Galatea understood what Hexadecimal had just said, but she certainly got the gist of it. She frowned in disappointment. "Hexadecimal, that was a very rude thing to say," she scolded, shaking her finger. This wasn't going too well. Bob stepped in, since he wasn't sure how far Hexadecimal's patience (what little of it there was) would last with the way Galatea was handling things.

"Look, Hex," he said gently, "If we want to get this thing out of the system, we'll need your help. You and Dot will just have to get along for a little while." Hexadecimal's eyes were still red, but her face was not as angry as it had been a few moments before. "Please?" Bob pleaded. "I would _really_ appreciate it…" He didn't like being manipulative, but he was desperate. Hexadecimal's eyes turned green, and she smiled ingratiatingly.

"Of _course,_ Bob darling. Anything for you," she purred, patting his cheek affectionately. "Let's go off to the Principal Office then, shall we?" And before he could stop her, she grabbed both him and Galatea by the arm and…

Frisket, for no discernible reason, started growling. Matrix turned to look at the dog with concern. Ray, whose time in the Web had taught him to be very perceptive, saw a flash of white appear about two micrometers above the table, and shouted a warning before Hexadecimal appeared, accompanied by a very startled Guardian on her left and a perplexed Game sprite on her right. Unfortunately for her two traveling companions, she was facing the head of the table, where Dot was sitting, and the sides, so Bob and Galatea found themselves without something to stand on. Bob crashed on Matrix with a yelp, and both of them toppled to the floor. Galatea was more fortunate — Ray caught her before she could hit the ground, and she blushed and mumbled an apology as he helped her stand upright.

"No worries, little lady," he said jovially. "Always glad to help." He flashed her a grin, and she smiled back weakly.

Across the table, Bob and Matrix had not yet managed to get untangled from each other and up on their respective feet. This was partly because Hack and Slash were trying to assist them in doing so, and also because the robots were being jostled and pushed by Dot and AndrAIa, who were trying to render aid as well. Matrix irritably cuffed the robots away, and managed to stand up. Dot pushed past Hack and helped Bob to his feet, asking if he were all right. Hexadecimal, who was still standing on the table, was surveying this whole scene with her hand to her mouth. Since her back was turned to Ray at this point, he could not see her face.

Dot, after being assured by Bob that he was none the worse for wear, frowned at Hexadecimal, who backspaced a step and almost fell off the table herself. "Get down from there," Dot growled at her. Hex, consternated, floated down from the table to touch down behind and to the side of Ray. Watching Dot warily, she went to an empty seat. Galatea did the same, taking the seat across from Hexadecimal as she had done last second.

When everyone else was more or less settled, Dot took her place at the head of the table again. "All right," she said, "Time to get down to business. We're going to trap that Absorber virus. Hexadecimal," she said sharply, addressing the virus. Hex jumped a little in her seat. "You're going to be the bait. Now, here's how it's going to work…"


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Chase

The pickings were slim this second — the inhabitants of the system were being cautious. The virus had only managed to catch a single zero binome in the last several milliseconds. It was stronger than it had been upon entering this system, but it was still not up to full power yet. And it was still hungry.

It had been doing most of its hunting in an area far below the top level of the city, a place of grimy darkness. It was very comfortable there. It was searching for prey in that area when it sensed a sudden flare of energy not far away. The source of energy dulled a bit after its initial appearance, but not by much — it shone like a beacon to the virus' senses.

The virus had felt this energy before, on and off, since it had arrived in the system. It knew that the energy source was another virus, one that, oddly, seemed to interact with the resident sprites on a friendly basis. But it had never felt the energy this close by before — it had always been far away, out of reach. Now, however, it was nearby, and staying in one place.

This was an opportunity not to be missed. The virus headed for the source of the energy, keeping to the shadows, drawn by the prospect of a feast.

Matrix fiddled with the communication headset for the 28th time, trying to get it into a relatively comfortable position. Since the sprites, robots and Chaos virus needed to keep in communication for this to work, Dot had furnished them with small earphone-and-microphone sets not unlike the one she usually wore. Matrix wondered how his sister had gotten used to wearing it. He just couldn't get his to sit right…

"How long do I have to keep doing this?" he heard Hexadecimal complain.

"Just be patient," Bob said, not for the first time. _Right. Like that's gonna happen,_ Matrix thought.

"Aye, the hunter must be still to catch the prey," Galatea's voice chimed in. "Sometimes for a few hours."

"_Hours!_" Matrix grimaced at Hexadecimal's screech. Behind him, AndrAIa winced.

"I think she means milliseconds," Ray corrected quickly. "But I don't think we'll have to wait that long."

They had been in place for several nanoseconds now. They had set up their trap in Mr. Pearson's Data Dump (over the binome's vehement protests) on level 31, since most of the virus attacks had taken place there. Hexadecimal was hovering out in the open, a red aura glowing around her. She was radiating a substantial amount of energy, but not doing anything with it. The sprites involved in the plan were hidden around the data dump, in small groups of two or three, with a virus scanner to each.

Matrix, AndrAIa and Frisket were hiding behind an old car, to Hexadecimal's north. Mouse and Ray were east of her, both armed with energy lances (Mouse had admitted, grudgingly, that her swords would be of little use against something so much like a null). Bob, Dot and Galatea were to the south. Hack and Slash were actually managing to keep quiet and hidden on the western side of the dump. They were as BASIC as it was possible to be without serious neural net damage, but they had really wanted to help and their formidable arrays of weaponry might just come in handy. Matrix was starting to wonder whether they were actually still there (he had never known them to be this quiet before), when Slash started gibbering over the communicator.

"Ooh, ooh! It's coming!"

"What? What's coming?" Hack asked anxiously.

"The thing the thing the thing!"

"What 'the thing'?"

"You know, the thing! The nasty thing!"

"Oh, _that_ thing!"

Dot's voice broke in with "How close is it?"

"Uh, what's it called again?" Slash asked. He hadn't caught Dot's question.

"I dunno," Hack said. "I forgot."

"How could you forget, you 8-bit…"

"Hey, hey, you forgot too!"

"No I didn't. It's an…umm…gimmie a nano…"

"Hah! You forgot! You can't scold me 'cuz you _forgot!_

Mouse's roar, which they would have been able to hear without the communicators, startled Matrix and his companions and brought an end to the robots' bickering. "Start makin' sense or Ah'll FAQ-in' delete you both! _How close is it?_"

"Uh, umm, 100 micrometers and closing, Ma'am!" Slash answered briskly. Matrix could swear he heard the robot rattling with fear.

"We're picking it up now, too," Dot informed them. Matrix heard Frisket starting to growl. "Coming in from the southwest."

Matrix reached out to pat Frisket. "Steady, boy. Not 'till Bob gives the word."

"Everyone stay frosty," Bob said.

Dot issued instructions over the communicator. "Hack, Slash, no missiles, only precise weapons. As soon as it passes between you and us, we go for it."

"_Finally,_" Hexadecimal sighed. "This was starting to get rather _boring_."

AndrAIa maximized her trident. Matrix got Gun ready, holding it with the barrel pointing upwards, as he peeked over the hood of the car. Frisket was growling fit to wake the deleted.

Something moved to the northwest — it wasn't one of Matrix's allies, since it was too far from Bob's or the robots' hiding places for that. Then he saw something shiny, black and null-like peek around the edge of a heap of garbage. Slowly, he aimed Gun at the black thing. "Gun: command line: targeting," he whispered, watching the virus.

Matrix had long ago ceased to see the world in the way that most sprites did — in both a literal and figurative sense. In times of danger such as these, his view of the world departed even more from the normal datoid way of seeing things. Through his cybernetic right eye, he saw the world in terms of heat, energy levels and wireframes. Numbers and text flickered in the lower right corner of his vision, displaying information about his current target. Near the center of his field of vision, a red crosshair emblazoned with an (V) was branded on what his targeting system classified as a virus. It was about twenty-five micrometers away from him.

"Remember, we're going to try and capture it," Bob whisper came over the communicator. Matrix frowned at the reminder, knowing that it was addressed especially to him. Gun was already set on "filelock," as per Bob's instructions, but if Matrix had had his way…

Suddenly the Absorber virus darted forward, and one of the numbers in Matrix's view, the one that indicated the target's distance from him, was rapidly decreasing. Although he felt an almost overwhelming urge to squeeze the trigger, Matrix waited for Bob's signal.

"_Now_!" Bob shouted. On his signal, all those equipped with long-range weapons stood up or stepped out from their hiding places and fired. Hexadecimal helped out with a few fireballs.

There was a piercing shriek, like that of a distressed null, only much louder. AndrAIa dropped her trident and fell to her knees, putting her hands over her ears. Frisket, his tail between his legs, cringed and tried to bury his head in the garbage. Although Matrix's ears were not as sensitive as those of the Game sprite or the dog, the screech was enough to cause him physical pain: he covered his ears as well, shouting a curse. With the onset of the screech, he lost his concentration and his target lock along with it.

After a cycle, there was another screech, but not from the Absorber — it wasn't as high-pitched or as loud (or as painful) as the first screech had been. Matrix was surprised that he hadn't gone deaf from that one. The second screech was followed by a long, drawn-out wail and incoherent shouting. The wail was dwindling away: the shouting was getting steadily louder, and it took a moment for Matrix to realize that it was not coming from the headset — he had crushed the earphone by accident, when he had been trying to cover his ears. The source of the shouting, he perceived, was coming closer, and now he could make out words.

"Thou hell-spawned puddle of shoe-shine polish! Cease and desist! Surrender now or taste my steel!" Matrix pulled himself up on the hood of the car and surveyed the scene.

The first thing he noticed was that Hexadecimal wasn't floating anymore — she was on the ground, almost completely enveloped by the black mass of the Absorber virus. The second thing he noticed was Galatea, running toward the fallen Hexadecimal and brandishing her sword as she hurled imprecations, insults and oaths at her foe. Bob was running — no, flying now — after her, probably trying to stop her from getting herself hurt. He was shouting too, but Matrix couldn't hear what he was saying. Dot was following closely behind the Guardian, until Hack and Slash, hysterical with terror, ran into her. From the opposite direction, Ray and Mouse were heading for Hexadecimal as well, Ray on his baud and Mouse on foot.

There was a weak red flash around the two grappling viruses — Hexadecimal trying to defend herself — but it didn't seem to affect the Absorber. Matrix was about to lock on it again when he heard AndrAIa whimper behind him.

He had assumed that she would recover as quickly as he did, but he had been wrong. Matrix hurried to her and crouched by her side. She was curled up in a ball, her hands still over her ears. Frisket was nudging her, concern showing in his eyes. He looked questioningly as Matrix as the renegade gently lay his hands on AndrAIa's shoulders. "Are you all right?" he said softly. She lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears. She lowered her hands and Matrix repeated his query, a little louder this time.

AndrAIa shook her head. "I can't hear you," she replied, her voice trembling. "I can't hear anything." She put the heel of her right hand to her forehead. "And my head hurts like a .BAT."

"It's getting away!" Matrix heard Dot cry. He turned his head to look in her direction, although he couldn't see much over the car. He saw flashes of light and heard the sound of weapons fire. He turned back to face AndrAIa, who was looking up at him again.

"I'll be fine," she insisted stoically. "Go. They'll need your help." Matrix was about to protest, though AndrAIa would not have been able to hear it anyway. "_Go!_" she shouted. "You too, Frisket," she added to the dog. Frisket perked up and ran off, barking, to join the other sprites. AndrAIa looked at Matrix once more and nodded. He patted her on the shoulder reassuringly before he stood, retrieved Gun from where he had dropped it and ran to follow Frisket.

Galatea, Dot, Mouse, Ray and the henchbots ran off in pursuit of the fleeing virus. Frisket and Matrix joined the chase shortly after. Everyone seemed to have forgotten about Hexadecimal, who had collapsed on the ground. Bob, who didn't feel good about just leaving her there, went to check on her.

He crouched by Hexadecimal, who was translucent with the loss of so much energy. She wasn't flickering, fortunately. Her eyes were closed, and he could not tell if she was still conscious. "Hex?" he asked softly.

Her eyelids fluttered open. The eyes beneath were dim blue, although there was a brighter blue spot in the center of each eye — a strange parody of normal sprite eyes. "Bob?" Hex asked weakly. "What…happened?" She tried to sit up quickly, but almost immediately fell down again. Bob quickly put one hand behind her head and gently lowered her back to the ground.

"You've lost a lot of energy, Hex," he told her. "It got you. I didn't think it would be able to drain you so fast…I'm sorry."

"Oh," she said. "Did you get it?"

"No. It ran away, but the others are going after it. I wanted to make sure you were all right." He could hear them talking to each other over their headsets, and he could hear Phong, who was in the war room tracking them, speak as well from time to time. Hexadecimal seemed to have lost her headset.

"It's getting away?" Hex snapped with surprising force. Her eyes flared red. "Then what are you doing here? Go get it, Guardian. I can take care of myself." He'd rarely heard her sound so lucid.

Startled by a noise nearby, Bob looked up to see AndrAIa stumbling out from where she and Matrix had been hidden. AndrAIa stumbling? That added to his worries. The Game sprite put a hand to her head, as if dazed, then looked at Bob.

"Go on." She winced. "The others need you now. We'll be all right." Hexadecimal nodded at him, encouraging him to go. An ambulance flew over the dump and landed a few micrometers away — Phong must have sent it.

The Guardian nodded grimly and stood up. He ascended into the air and flew in the direction that the other sprites had taken. He could hear them speaking to each other over the headset.

"Don't let it get to the…" he heard Matrix say. Then there was the sound of weapons fire. "…sewers," Matrix finished despondently. "Great. Now we'll have to go down there after it."

"Phong, seal off the sewer pipes around…the intersection of thirtieth avenue and Q street," Dot said.

"One moment," Phong said. There was a pause, during which Bob saw his companions in an intersection below him, gathered around a spritehole. Frightened binomes were watching them from doorways and windows. Bob floated down to his friends. "There. The pipes are sealed," Phong said.

"Good," Dot said as Bob landed. "We've got the spritehole covered, and that's the only way in or out. Send a CPU unit here — I want the block evacuated and surrounded. If it gets out I don't want it running off again. And have them bring some lights for us." She looked at Bob, frowning.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I was checking to see if Hexadecimal was all right. A medical team just picked her up, and AndrAIa too. They'll be all right."

Frisket was sniffing at the spritehole and growling. "Be patient boy," Matrix said. "We'll get that virus soon enough."

The CPUs arrived a few nanoseconds later, although it seemed like an eternity to the waiting sprites. Working quickly and efficiently, the police binomes evacuated the area, getting the civilians out of harm's way, and set up a perimeter around the block. One of them gave the sprites helmets with lights mounted on the front, of the type that maintenance workers used.

"I don't think Frisket or the henchbots will fit through that hole," Dot said, tightening the chin strap on her helmet and switching the light on. "They can stay and guard it."

"Right, boss!" Hack said, saluting.

"Yeah, we'll watch the hole." Slash saluted too.

"It won't get past us."

"We'll make sure."

"If it comes out…"

"…_BAM!_" Slash drove his right fist into his open left hand for emphasis. He did it a little too hard. "Ow!" he yelped, shaking his left hand.

"Um," Dot reconsidered. "Ray, Mouse, will you stay up here with them?"

"Of course, Sugah," Mouse assured her, pointing the business end of her energy lance at the hole. Ray gave Dot a thumbs-up, and did the same with his lance.

"All right then," Matrix said, with a rather vicious grin. "Let's go down there and get that virus."

One of the binomes handed Matrix a crowbar, which he used to lift the spritehole cover. Bob and Matrix peered into the hole below — there was a vertical concrete tunnel, with rusty metal rungs forming a ladder down one side. The beams of light from their helmets showed a damp concrete floor below. Matrix lowered himself into the hole first. Bob followed him, then Galatea and Dot after. As the stench of the sewers wafted up to meet him, Bob started breathing through his mouth to save his nose. Matrix reached the floor and moved aside so that Bob could get to the bottom of the ladder.

The ladder ended in a small alcove which was recessed into the wall of the tunnel. Walking out of it, Bob found himself on a walkway that was just wide enough for a single sprite or binome. The walkway ran along the edge of the tunnel, raised above the stream of sewage that flowed down it (although it wasn't flowing now, since Phong had shut off this part of the system). There was another walkway of the same kind on the opposite side of the stream, close enough that he could easily jump over to it if he wanted to.

It was Matrix, however, who jumped to this other walkway. When Galatea came out of the alcove, he motioned for her to join him. She did so, leaping the gap and drawing her sword in one smooth motion. Dot came down last and looked at each of the other three sprites in turn.

"Good idea," she said to Matrix. "We'll follow the same tunnel, but walk on opposite sides. That way the virus will have a tougher time escaping if we corner it." Her face wrinkled in disgust. "Yuck. I'll have to spend a whole second in the bathtub after this."

The virus panicked as it came upon another sealed door. If even a small pipe had been open it could have escaped, but the sewers were sealed tight. It flattened itself against the ceiling now, listening to the sprites talking in the adjacent tunnel. Wounded as it was, it would not be able to slip past them. But it was already healing — the energy it had gotten from the other virus was more than enough to restore it. It would just have to avoid those sprites for a little while — soon it would be strong enough to make a speedy escape, or perhaps even consume the sprites themselves…

"Stay frosty. It could be anywhere," Bob warned. The beams of light from the sprites' helmets danced back and forth as they looked from side to side and up and down. Matrix didn't need his headlamp at the moment, though, because he was using his cybernetic eye. With it he was able to see around corners, so the others were following his lead. He was peering around when he heard Galatea shift around behind him.

"What was that noise?" she whispered. Then, "_Look out!_"

Matrix whirled around, saw the virus leaping at them, and fired. He missed, but the virus missed them too, and it fell into the stream of filth below with a wet _smack_. Matrix could still see it, though, swimming under the surface. He got a target lock on it as it rounded a corner.

The walkway on the side of the tunnel was too narrow to run on, so he leaped into the muck itself — it was fairly shallow, little more than ankle-deep — and ran along the tunnel floor. Galatea, without hesitation, followed him, and Bob flew after them. Matrix heard his sister sigh resignedly as she too jumped to the tunnel floor and joined the pursuit.

The virus was heading down a tunnel. He wheeled after it, splashing the muck onto his trousers, but he hardly noticed. He saw the virus had come up against one of the closed sewer doors. A ball of golden light, crackling with energy, hurtled at the thing from over Matrix's shoulder — that was Bob, of course. The virus, with nowhere to flee, leaped at them.

The next few cycles, as Matrix would later recount to AndrAIa, seemed to happen very slowly. The black thing was in the air, coming toward him. Bob fired another shot, and Matrix managed to get off two of his own. But the virus _shifted_ in midair, and the shots missed it. It was bare nanometers from Matrix's face when a bar of red light stabbed through it…

Time resumed its normal speed as the virus, impaled on Galatea's sword, began to screech. Matrix put his hands over his own ears, but the sprite beside him kept her hands firmly on her sword hilt. Her face, twisted into a rictus by the pain of the noise battling the force of her will, was eerily lit by the red glow of her enchanted blade. The virus writhing and jerking with shock, cast strange patterns of red light and black shadow around the tunnel. Then it too started to glow red, and it began to shrink, the sound of its cry fading as it did so. It was reduced to about the size of a sprite's head before it exploded into a cloud of dust and ashes that drifted downwards and joined the stagnant waste on the bottom of the pipe.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Birthday Cakes and Karaoke Robots

"_Three…two…one…Yayyyy!_" Everyone cheered and applauded as a ring of golden light, starting at Mouse's feet, rose up and vanished over the top of her head. A ragged and off-key chorus of "Happy Birthday to You" ensued, then more cheering and clapping. Little Enzo tooted a plastic party horn and the celebration was officially underway.

Two seconds ago, the Absorber virus had been deleted. Things in Mainframe were back to normal. Or at least as close to normal as they could get. The birthday party was taking place in a large room in the Principal Office. It had been decorated to perfection (in other words, to Dot's specifications) the second before. The birthday cake and various other foodstuffs were laid out on a side table. Balloons abounded throughout the room.

Hexadecimal and Hack and Slash had been invited to the party, against Dot's better judgment, because it was as much a victory celebration as it was a birthday bash. The three of them — Hexadecimal most of all — had offered help when Mainframe needed it, and they deserved something in return.

The celebrants gathered around the buffet table, plates and forks ready, as Ray began cutting up the pink-and-white frosted multi-layer cake. "I made it myself," Hexadecimal announced proudly. Bob had convinced Dot, after a very heated exchange of whispers, that it would be better for all concerned if they accepted Hex's offer to bake the cake. It looked quite appetizing — not an attribute of her previous culinary creations, unfortunately. It was chocolate sponge cake with strawberry filling — at least, that's what it looked like. With Hexadecimal, you could never tell.

Because of the rules of ettiquette, none of the guests could start eating the cake until the birthday sprite had taken the first bite. In most cases, this rule is the cause of a few moments of irritation and impatience on the part of the attending guests, but to most of those gathered at the event, it was a relief. For Mouse, of course, it was something of a problem.

"It looks lovely, Hex," Mouse commented. "Ah'm sure it tastes lovely too." Her voice didn't quite sound sincere, but Hexadecimal, who was not very good at picking up on details like these, beamed proudly.

Hack leaned over and whispered to Slash. "Y'know," he said, "Times like these make me glad I can't eat." Slash patted his back in agreement.

Mouse, after regarding the cake for a cycle, sighed and applied her fork to it. Everyone at the table watched closely as she lifted a bite of cake to her lips, inserted it into her mouth and began to chew. She paused — causing all the sprites to tense for a moment — before she smiled and nodded. Mouse swallowed the cake. "It's delicious. Thank you."

Those partygoers who were able began to eat their cake. The henchbots sighed and stared at the cake longingly for a moment, until Slash was struck by a rare flash of inspiration. He nudged Hack to get his attention, then began whispering to him. Hack perked up as well; then the two of them hurried to the collection of speakers and sound equipment in the corner, which included a karaoke machine. Slash fiddled with it, trying to turn it on and find the song he wanted, while Hack picked up one of the microphones and tapped it. Everyone else in the room turned to look at him. The red 'bot suddenly became very nervous.

"Umm…Slash and I have a song we'd, uh, like to perform. Yeah." He looked at Slash, who gave him a thumbs up before picking up the other microphone. After a couple of cycles some music started to play, and the pair began to sing a few seconds later.

"_When the night  
has come…  
and the system is dark,  
and there's no  
light aroundwe can see…_"

Hack had a surprisingly good singing voice. Slash provided him with the bass section of the song. Before long, everyone was clapping to the beat. The henchbots concluded the song amid appreciative applause, and bowed before leaving the stage. AndrAIa stood up.

"I need a partner for this one," she said, looking at Dot. Dot shook her head and held up her hands.

"C'mon, sugah," Mouse cajoled her. "One song for the birthday girl?" She grinned. Dot acceded to her request and stood up. Everyone cheered as she went up to the stage to take her place next to AndrAIa. They sang "We Are Family" together — after that, Dot ended up singing more than the "one song" that Mouse had requested of her.

"Bob? I needs must speak with thee," Galatea said quietly as she tapped the Guardian on the shoulder. Mouse was singing "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun," and although she was off-key by several millimeters, everyone was having too much fun to care.

Bob turned to Galatea, feeling a little worried. "Is something wrong?" he asked, trying to imagine what it might be.

"Oh no," she replied, shaking her head, "Not at all, really. But I just thought of something a few sec…" she broke off mid-word, rolling her eyes and mouthing a silent curse. "Sorry. A few cycles ago. Something that I wish to discuss with thee after…"

Mouse finished her song to a round of cheers and applause, cutting off the conversation between Bob and Galatea. They exchanged a quick glance, agreeing to talk about whatever it was at a better time.

The birthday sprite took a bow and returned to her seat. Ray Tracer got up and went to the microphone that she had just left. "Many thanks to Mouse for giving us a demonstration of her musical talents," he said with a wide grin. He waited for the resulting laughter to die down before he continued. "Now, since we've done the feasting and singing bit, it's about time for our birthday girl to open her presents." The other party guests cheered their assent, and Mouse grinned. Dot and little Enzo moved the plates and cups near the head of the table, clearing a space for Mouse to open her presents on. Hexadecimal, Hack and Slash brought over the presents, which had until now been waiting in a pile in the corner.

One by one, the presents were opened; a clothing format from AndrAIa (which she had programmed herself), a framed color JPEG that little Enzo had made, and a rare .MP3 album from Dot, among other things. After the last present had been opened, though, Mouse had an odd look on her face, as if she'd been expecting something that hadn't happened.

"Well, take a look at this," Ray said in mock surprise, producing a small package from behind his back. "Looks like that wasn't the last one after all. Happy birthday, love," he said, offering her the package. It was a small, flat rectangle, wrapped in teal paper and tied with a blue ribbon. Mouse grinned at the surfer, accepted the package, and began to undo the ribbon. Then she removed the paper carefully, revealing a small red box. The room was thick with anticipation as Mouse opened the box, gasped in surprise, and then favored Ray with a brilliant smile.

"What is it?" little Enzo queried excitedly. Using the thumb and forefinger of each hand, Mouse took out the thing in the box so that everyone could see it. It was a golden bracelet, hung with charms that resembled the symbol on Mouse's seal ring. The little golden mice had bodies made of polished oval gemstones, which glowed richly in the light. She proffered it to Ray, who took it carefully and put it around her left wrist.

"_Thank_ you, darlin'!" Mouse said gratefully. She sounded as if she were about to break out in joyful tears. But she didn't do that. Instead, she leaped out of her chair, embraced the Surfer and kissed him passionately. The other guests, depending upon who they were, smiled or showed a sudden interest in the ceiling. Little Enzo made an exaggerated gagging noise. Dot frowned at him, but Mouse and Ray took no notice of him at all.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The Tourney

"So, what was it that you wanted to talk about?" Bob asked. The party had ended, and everyone was leaving. While Dot, AndrAIa and both Enzos were staying to help with the clean-up, Bob and Galatea had gone into the corridor to speak.

"Well," Galatea began, "Lady Dot asked me what I intended to do, since I had discovered my true nature." She sighed. "I did not have a good answer for her then — there were other concerns that needed attending to. But now I know," she nodded confidently, "And that is what I wished to discuss with thee."

Bob grinned at her. "So, what exactly _are_ you planning to do?" He didn't really need to ask, though; he was certain of the answer.

"_Warning: Incoming Game. Warning: Incoming Game._" Matrix was playing fetch with Frisket in Floating Point when he heard the alarm. He looked up to see where the Game was going to land — on the other side of the sector, not too far away. Frisket was already headed for the descending cube at full speed. Matrix grinned as he pulled his zipboard off his belt, maximized it, and jumped onto the discs. Then, rising into the air, he flew in the direction Frisket had gone.

As he got close to the Game cube, he saw two other sprites heading for it — Bob, flying without a zipboard, and Galatea, who had been a Guardian cadet for about a week. If it had been up to Matrix, she wouldn't be playing Games at all, and she certainly wouldn't be a cadet. She wasn't BASIC, but she was still baffled by everyday, common-sense things that most dataforms didn't have to think twice about. Bob should have waited a few minutes — maybe even a day — for her to get acclimated before giving her a field commission.

By the same token, though, Bob should not made Matrix a cadet when he was barely 10. So Matrix had concluded that, while he didn't understand Bob's decision, there must have been a good reason for it. And he had to admit that Galatea certainly had potential.

Frisket was already under the Game cube, running around in circles, barking excitedly at Matrix as he descended to the ground. Matrix hopped off his zipboard and minimized it. Bob and Galatea landed near him as he fastened the zipboard to his belt. And none too soon, either, for the Game was only ten micrometers above the ground.

"Change your icon," Bob said to Galatea. She still preferred to wear her Game sprite icon most of the time, another aspect of her behavior that irked Matrix. She also wore it in the center of her chest, a little higher up than where Hexadecimal wore her own icon, rather than wearing it over her heart as most Guardians did. This little eccentricity wasn't worth an argument, though, so Matrix let it pass.

Galatea double-clicked her medallion-in-a-triangle icon, transforming it into a Guardian icon just before the cube came down over them. They were now standing in the center of a large elliptical arena of packed dirt. Along the two sides of the arena were tiers of wooden benches; the seats were occupied by cheering Game sprites. From the clothing they were wearing, Matrix could tell that this game was supposed to be in a medieval setting. Tall poles rose from the outer frames of the seating boxes, and from these, multicolored pennants waved.

At one end of the field was a seating box, hung with bunting, in which there were three chairs. The biggest and most elaborate one, in the middle of the box, was occupied by a large man with white hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He wore a crown and a red robe lined with white fur; he also carried a scepter in one hand. To his right there sat a middle-aged woman, wearing a heavily embroidered dress of dark blue. She too wore a crown, though it was not as big as that of the male sprite. On the other side of the great chair there sat a slim, fair-skinned young woman in a gown of light blue. She had long, golden hair, topped by a diamond tiara. On either side of the box there stood three heralds. Each herald in the group on the left carried a long silver trumpet and wore a blue tabard with a picture of a standard icon on the front. The ones on the right were similar, but their tabards were red and blue, decorated with a lion rampant in yellow, and their trumpets were gold.

The other side of the field was open, and Matrix could see multicolored tents beyond it. There were also sprites moving among the tents — most of them were like the those sitting on the tiers, but some of them were horses.

"'Tis a tourney!" Galatea cried enthusiastically. She looked at the seating box at one end of the field. "A royal tourney. I won a prize at…" Realizing that she was recalling a memory of something that had not actually happened, she fell silent, deflated. "What are the Game statistics?" she asked desultorily.

"Well, you were right. It's a tourney," Bob told her. "There are five events: jousting, wrestling, horse racing, archery, and quarterstaff dueling. The User can choose them in any order it wants. It was to win three of them to win the Game." Bob looked around. "Ii hasn't shown up yet. I don't think it will until it's selected the first event."

"We should get out of the arena before it does," Matrix suggested, gesturing toward the tents. "I don't want to end up in the middle of a firing range with no warning." Bob nodded, and the sprites set off for the tents at a brisk pace, with Frisket following.

When they reached the tents, Matrix halted, and the others followed suit. "Okay. I think we'll be fine here."

"Then let's get ready to play the Game," Bob said. "Reboot!"

"Reboot!" Matrix and Galatea chimed in simultaneously. Matrix rebooted Frisket as well, before looking to see what assets the Game had given them.

Matrix found himself wearing a leather jerkin, and a pair of short trousers that reached down to just above his knees. He didn't seem to have any other equipment — so he was probably a wrestler. He looked at his companions.

Bob was clothed in a blue tunic, breeches, and brown ankle-high boots. On the front of his tunic was a design that looked like a standard black-and-white icon. He didn't seem to be carrying any weapons or other equipment, which made Matrix a little worried.

Galatea was wearing a suit of armor — not golden, like her original armor, but steel. Over it she wore a blue tabard with an icon design, like the ones the heralds with silver trumpets were wearing. The suit of armor, however, was not complete — she had no helmet or gauntlets, and like Matrix and Bob she was weaponless.

Frisket had rebooted into a horse, and he was not very pleased about it. He looked positively outrageous with his bright red-and-yellow fur (well, hair), especially compared to the other horses who were of a more subdued color scheme. What made it even worse was the blue-and-silver color scheme his reins and saddle had been decorated with — the clash of colors made the poor canine/equine a terrible eyesore. And all that horse barding must have made him terribly uncomfortable. Frisket made a strangled noise that sounded like a whimper, except he didn't have the vocal equipment for it.

"Why don't we have any weapons?" Bob asked, sounding a little worried. Matrix was wondering about that too. It didn't help any when he heard the trumpets, and an ambient voice calling, "_The first event shall be…the quarterstaff duel_!" There was a loud cheer from the audience. Matrix turned around to look at the arena and see what was happening.

There was now a wooden catwalk in the center of the arena, set up perpendicular to the long audience boxes. The catwalk, about ten micrometers long, five high, and one wide, was suspended over what looked like a mud pit. At each end of the catwalk there was a set of steps.

"_Combatants, enter the field_!" Matrix moved aside as two men jogged past him out into the arena. Each one carried a pole more than a micrometer in length — the quarterstaves. One of the men was a Game sprite, dressed in light blue with the icon symbol on his chest. The other one was undoubtedly the User, in crimson and royal blue, emblazoned with a lion rampant in yellow. Matrix tried to follow them, but at the perimeter of the arena he slammed into something and barely managed to keep from falling over. He reached out a hand, cautiously, and found that the air before him was as solid as a wall. "We can't go in," he said. "I guess it's up to our Game sprite now."

The User and the blue-garbed sprite ran to opposite sides of the catwalk. They bowed to the occupants of the royal box, then mounted their respective sets of steps and stood facing each other across the length of the catwalk. The User and its opponent each assumed a ready position. Matrix watched as the red-robed man in the center of the royal box raised his scepter, slowly; then he bought it down sharply. "_Begin_!"

The combatants shuffled toward each other, then started lashing out at one another with their staves. They seemed to be pretty evenly matched, although it was a bit too early to tell for sure. Matrix looked at Bob, who was watching the duel intently.

"Ah!" he heard Galatea exclaim. "There it is!" Bob and Matrix turned to face her. She pointed to a round, blue tent, not far away from them. Beside the entrance was a tall white pole, and on that pole was a blue pennant emblazoned with the icon symbol, fluttering in the breeze. "Our weapons will be there," Galatea said. "Since it seems that we do not have a page to fetch them, we must…"

"_Bob!_" A short green sprite moving at high speed pounced on the Guardian affectionately, as he usually did. Matrix groaned to see his younger counterpart — little Enzo was an embarrassing reminder of what he had once been. "I was in the park and I saw the Game and since I was close by I thought hey, I should go in too, so here I am. But I was a little worried when I didn't see anyone else," he explained, smiling broadly.

"We're…glad to see you," Bob replied from his recumbent position on the ground, understandably short of breath. "Uh…can you please let me get up now?" Enzo obliged, and proceeded to remark on how humorous Frisket's transformation was. The dog/horse didn't appreciate it.

"I think we have our page," Galatea said, as she looked Enzo over carefully. He was wearing a smaller version of Bob's outfit.

"Page? I'm a _page_?" Enzo frowned. "That means I don't get to do anything _cool_." In other words, he wouldn't be able to take part in any of the events, for which Matrix was grateful.

"But the page has a very important job," Galatea explained. "He must help his master prepare for battle. Dost thou see that blue tent there?" she pointed to the blue tent from which the icon flag was flying. "Our weapons are in that tent, and it is thy job to fetch them and help us equip them." This didn't seem to mollify Enzo at all.

"Enzo," Bob said, "This is sort of like a role-playing Game. Matrix wasn't able to go into the arena because he isn't a quarterstaff fighter. And since the page is supposed to fetch the weapons, you might be the only one who can enter the tent and get the equipment." _Nice save_, Matrix thought to himself.

"Oh, so it _is_ a very important job!" Enzo said with a grin. Bob nodded. "Okay! What do I have to get?" At this, everyone turned to Galatea.

She counted off silently on her fingers before giving Enzo a list of the things they needed. "And do not try to carry it all at once," she warned him. "The equipment is heavier than it looks."

Enzo dashed off to the tent and returned laden with some of the equipment—a full helm (on his head), metal gauntlets (on his hands), a steel kite-shaped shield bearing their icon crest (half as big as he was), and a lance. He stumbled up to the sprites and fell over. Matrix tried to catch the lance before it hit the ground, but it passed right through his hands. To Galatea, however, it was tangible, and she set it against the wall of the arena.

"Hey, if I'm not supposed to be able to use these things, how come I can pick them up?" Enzo asked.

"I guess because it's part of your role," Bob hypothesized. "You can carry other people's equipment around, but you can't _use_ it." After a moment's contemplation, Enzo nodded and ran off to fetch more equipment. He returned with a bow and quiver of arrows on his back, carrying a leather buckler and a small club in his hands.

"What are the club and buckler for?" Bob asked as he took the quiver from Enzo and put it on.

"They are for Matrix," Galatea said, as she pulled on her gauntlets. "He will need them in the wrestling match."

"I thought you didn't need weapons for wrestling," Matrix objected. "I should know, I've played a lot of wrestling games."

"The ancient style does not involve weapons," Galatea said, "But the modern…" Pausing, she frowned. "Well, this one does." Enzo offered the buckler and club to Matrix. Matrix slipped his left forearm through the loops on the back of the buckler and hefted the club in his other hand — it wasn't very heavy, but with enough force behind it, it could probably do some damage.

Matrix turned his attention back to the duel in the arena just in time to see the User knock his opponent off the catwalk and into the mud pit. The User brandished its quarterstaff triumphantly, to the cheers of the audience. Frisket laid back his ears and made an equine's best possible imitation of a growl. On the other side of the arena, the heralds in red and blue played a fanfare on their golden trumpets.

"That's one for the User," Bob said gravely. Enzo watched the arena, biting his lower lip with worry. Galatea, leaning on her lance, looked down at the ground. Matrix waited anxiously for the next event to be announced.

"_The next event shall be…wrestling_!" the announcer called. The crowd cheered: the User, the raised catwalk, the mud put and the unfortunate sprite who had fallen into it all vanished. Now there was a wide chalk circle marked in the middle of the field.

"Don't step in until the match begins. The first one forced out of the ring, or beaten into submission, is the loser," Galatea instructed Matrix. "Watch thy head." Matrix nodded.

"_Combatants, enter the field_!" Matrix ran out into the arena — this time, there was no invisible wall keeping him back. He headed for the chalk ring. Another running sprite drew up alongside him: the User. It was big — as big as Matrix himself — and shaved bald. It had a permanent snarl on its face — that seemed to be a common thing with Users. The User went to one side of the circle and bowed to the royal box. Matrix stood on the other side of the circle and did the same, although he felt a little foolish doing it.

"Good luck!" Bob shouted as Matrix and the User took up positions opposite each other, outside the borders of the ring. Matrix crouched defensively, brandishing his club and holding up his shield. The User, on the other side of the circle, did the same. He could see, clearly, the User's icon in the center of his chest: half red, half blue, with a lion rampant on it. Matrix waited for what seemed like an eternity before the sprite in the royal box called"_Begin_!"

The two combatants moved into the circle, then started circling around each other cautiously, each one sizing up the other. Matrix wondered how the health point system worked in this Game — if it was primitive, he'd either have to hit the icon to cause damage (very difficult), or just keep hitting the User until he had depleted its hit points. Or, if it were an advanced system, each part of the body would have health points…

The User jumped at him suddenly, swinging its club downwards with the intention of giving Matrix a crack on the skull. But Matrix was ready, and held up his buckler to deflect the blow. As he did so, he used his club in a backhanded swing, hitting the User's unprotected right side. The User stumbled a little from the impact, but regained its balance quickly.

The two of them circled around each other again, looking for an opening. This time Matrix made the first move. He leapt forward, holding his shield in front of his face to protect himself, and used the club to swing at the User's left kneecap.

His blow connected, and the User almost toppled over. Matrix darted back as the User swung its club at him. The User pressed the attack, trying to drive Matrix out of the circle. By using his shield, Matrix was able to defend himself from the User's attack, and instead of just backing up in a straight line he moved sideways, so he wouldn't be forced to step across the line. He was getting ready to strike when the User did something unexpected — instead of using its club, it threw itself forward, using its shield like a ram. Matrix was nearly knocked out of the ring — the heel of his right foot was less than a nanometer from crossing the line. The User drew back its club for a final strike, but it didn't move fast enough, and Matrix was able to get in a hit on its vulnerable right side. The User cringed at the impact, and Matrix took the opportunity to headbutt it.

Matrix grinned savagely as his opponent reeled backward, stunned. Then, raising his shield to protect his face, he rushed forward and hit the User like a battering ram. But his maneuver didn't have quite the effect he'd hoped for. The User recovered as Matrix charged it, and bought its club down on the crown of Matrix's head.

He felt a flash of pain where the club hit him, and a dull ache began to spread across his skull. His surroundings were a spinning, rocking blur. The User swung its club again, and Matrix only just stumbled out of the way, feeling the club _whoosh_ by him. He could hear the sprites in the audience chanting "_Finish him! Finish him!_" But he wasn't finished yet.

Bending all his will to the task, Matrix tried to focus his swimming vision. The User was raising its club high above its head, but it hadn't put any thought into defending itself — its shield was at its side, not protecting its chest. The red, blue and yellow of the User's icon burned in Matrix's vision. The User's club began to swing downwards.

Without thinking, Matrix dropped his own club and drove his fist straight toward the User's icon. His blow connected, and the User, flickering and backspacing with the shock of the blow, stumbled over the line.

A wild cheer went up from the audience, but Matrix did stay to bask in his victory. He was already making his way back to the edge of the arena, where Frisket, Bob, Galatea and little Enzo were waiting for him. It seemed to take him forever — the ground refused to stop rocking under his feet, and he stumbled and staggered all the way there.

"Are you all right?" Bob asked him as he stepped across the perimeter and out of the arena. He put a hand on Matrix's shoulder to steady him. Frisket, who had watched the whole fight with the other sprites, made a horsey whimper and pawed the ground with his front hooves.

"I'm…just…fine…" he said. "No problem." He smiled reassuringly.

Then he blacked out.

Bob and Galatea were able to catch Matrix before he collapsed and (with great difficulty) lowered him gently to the ground. "Enzo, go back to the tent and find a blanket and pillow — or whatever you can," Bob instructed. Enzo nodded nervously and darted off towards the blue tent. Galatea and Bob dragged Matrix away from the entrance to the arena, so he would be safe from trampling and other such unpleasantness. Enzo returned with some saddle blankets — they used a folded one as a pillow and two others to cover their unconscious friend. Bob examined the wound the User had made near the crown of Matrix's skull.

"It's bleeding, but not much. I don't think the wireframe is broken, but I'm not a diagnostic program. There might be something else wrong and we just can't see it." Matrix had a physical constitution that compared favorably with that of a thick steel wall, but even so…

"_The next event shall be…horse racing!_" the announcement came. "_Racers, enter the field!_" Bob was glad, then, that they had moved out of the way of the arena, because a large group on horses were now entering it. The horses were not like the sort of equine that Frisket had become — they were leaner, and wore no armor. The sprites riding them were similarly lean, and all of them were small — some of them were hardly larger than Enzo. The horses didn't have real saddles — just a saddle blanket held in place with a wide leather strap. Bob sat himself down close to the unconscious Matrix, but facing the arena so that he could see what was happening.

Unlike the previous events, this one was a competition between more than just two individuals: the User and a sprite from Bob's team were among the racers, but there were others as well, probably because a circuit race with only two jockeys was not as exciting as one involving — Bob counted the sprites as they lined up their horses to salute the royal box — eight.

"Galatea, how many laps will they run in this race?" Bob asked. She looked at him quizzically. "I mean how many times will they go around," he clarified.

"Ten is the usual number," she said. The riders moved away from the center of the arena, and when the last one was out of the way a high fence rose out of the ground, forming a smaller ellipse in the center. Now the track was marked — the riders were lining up in preparation for the start of the race, so that they were facing the royal box. Bob noticed that they weren't sitting on the horses so much as crouching on them, keeping their heads low and their legs gripping the sides of their mounts rather than hanging down as was usual. On the opposite side of the fenced-off area there was now a straight, white line across the track — the finish line.

Enzo scrambled up onto Frisket's back and stood balanced there so he could see the royal box. "The king is holding up his scepter…"

Then they heard the cry "_Begin_!" and the racers were off in a cloud of dust. It was hard to keep track of all the racers, so Bob just watched the User. He wished that he were able to do something other than just _watch,_ but he couldn't think of any way to help their cause. He winced when he saw the User's fist lash out to strike one of the other jockeys, a sprite dressed in green and gold. The rider fell off his horse and was trampled by the others. After the horses had galloped away the broken body of the jockey could be seen lying in the track, a pool of red slowly expanding around him. The body, and the pool, faded out of existence as the racers were rounding the far curve. Bob noticed the sprite's horse fade out as well, even while it ran on with the others.

"He's…not supposed to _do_ that, is he?" Enzo asked shakily.

Galatea scowled shook her head. "He should rightly have been disqualified, but I suppose the rules are different here." She looked to Bob for a confirmation.

"Sometimes Games favor the User that way," Bob said. He cringed as the User kicked out sideways at the leg of a jockey riding a sandy-colored horse next to its own. The unfortunate jockey was hit in the knee, and, after a horrible moment, fell and was trampled by his own horse. As with the previous rider, his body lay in the center of the track for a few cycles before fading away. The sandy-colored horse, which had slowed down after the loss of its jockey, faded out as well. There were now only six riders left, and four laps had been run.

"If I were riding out there, I'd make the User process his own bad data," Enzo declared. He stuck his tongue out at the User as the riders swung around their end of the arena.

Then Bob heard a groan from Matrix's direction. He turned his attention away from the track. His other companions took notice, and Bob was forced aside by Frisket, who nuzzled Matrix sympathetically while making those odd whimpering noises. Little Enzo slid down off his back and crouched at the feet of his older counterpart.

"How are you feeling?" Bob asked as Matrix opened his eyes. The big sprite blinked at him, then put a hand to his forehead and muttered something that Bob couldn't hear. "Take your time," Bob said gently, patting his shoulder. "You took a bad hit."

"Couldn't have been that bad," Matrix managed to say. "I'm still processing, after all." He grinned defiantly, and tried to sit up. Bob shook his head and, carefully, pushed him back down.

"That's not a good idea," Bob said. "You're awake, and that's a good sign, but I don't know how badly you were hit." He considered doing the 'how many fingers am I holding up' test, but decided against it — Matrix wouldn't take it well.

"Can someone tell me what I missed?" Matrix asked. "What event's on now?" Bob was about to answer, but he was interrupted by the blare of trumpets and the cheers of the crowd. The Guardian couldn't see the arena from where he was, since the side of the box blocked his view, but Galatea was still standing up (she probably couldn't sit down in that suit of armor), and she had a clear view. She looked at Bob with a worried expression.

"The User won this round," she said gravely. "But now, our fate is in our own hands, and that at least is some consolation."

"Can someone tell me what I missed?" Matrix asked again, more forcefully this time. Bob opened his mouth to answer, but didn't have time.

"_The next event shall be…archery! Archers, enter the field!_" An archer in a red-and-blue outfit emblazoned with a lion rampant appeared as if out of thin air and jogged into the arena. Now it was Bob's turn. He shrugged apologetically to Matrix, then stood up and pulled the bow out of the quiver on his back. Galatea, little Enzo and Frisket looked at him anxiously.

"Don't worry," he reassured them. "I've done this before. I took Archery as my elective in the Guardian Academy." He chose not to admit that he'd only gotten his skill up to mediocre, at best - he wasn't going to make them more worried than they were already. And if he had to, he could use his powers to help him, though that was only a last resort.

Little Enzo jumped up and grinned confidently at him. "All right! The User hasn't got a chance!" Bob looked at Matrix and was surprised to see on his face an expression similar to that of the younger sprite. He was amazed that the older Enzo had as much confidence in him as the younger one. _I wish _I _were that sure of myself,_ Bob thought.

He turned to look at Galatea. She didn't seem to have the absolute confidence of the two Enzos, but there was no doubt in her expression either.

Bob heard booing from the sprites seated in the audience boxes. "_If the opposing archer does not enter in the next minute, the match is forfeit._" Minutes were a lot shorter in Game time. He had to get moving.

"Good luck," Galatea said simply as Bob jogged out into the arena. The crowds cheered as he made his entrance. The User, he saw, was standing at a point equidistant between the royal box and the edge of the arena that he had just come from, a little off to the left of the arena's center. He was facing the royal box.

As Bob came closer and took his position to the right of the center, he noticed that the User was standing on a white line, presumably the firing line. But he couldn't see any targets. The User bowed to the royal box, and Bob imitated him. Then the User did an about-face. Bob did too, and saw that the open end of the arena was now blocked by a tall wooden fence. Two bull's-eye targets stood in front of that fence, one for each of the archers. The targets were of the standard type — a small yellow circle in the center surrounded by successive rings of red, blue, black and white.

Bob heard the announcer's voice. "_Nock your arrows._" The User took an arrow from the quiver on its back nocked it in its bow. It kept the arrow pointed at the ground. Bob did the same.

"_Prepare to shoot._" The User lifted its bow into a firing position and drew back its arm. Bob followed suit, and sighted along the arrow. He hadn't done this for a while, but he was pleased to find that his arms didn't shake with the strain, and he was able to keep the tip of the arrow fairly steady. He lined up for his shot.

"_Ready…aim…fire!_" Bob and the User let fly. Bob's shot wasn't extremely good — it was on the outer edge of the red ring surrounding the yellow bull's-eye in the center. The User's shot _thunked_ into the fence beside its target. A cheer rose up from the crowd. Bob smiled to himself, but he wasn't out of the recycle bin yet.

"_Player: zero points. Computer: four points. There are two shots remaining._" The Guardian hoped that the User's missed shot was the result of poor skills and not just chance. "_Nock your arrows,_" the announcer said…

Since the older him wasn't able to stand up, and Frisket wasn't tall enough, Enzo had pressed Galatea into service as a viewing platform so that he could see over the fence. She consented to let him stand on her shoulders, but it wasn't high enough. Enzo still couldn't see over the top of the barrier. He couldn't even place his hands on the top of the fence — some invisible wall began where the boards ended and kept him out. He would probably be able to see (briefly) if he jumped, but Galatea wouldn't appreciate that.

"It's no use," he said. "You're not tall enough."

"My apologies," Galatea said with a sort of good-natured sarcasm. By using Frisket's back as an intermediate step, Enzo was able to get back to the ground. As he did so he heard the announcer call"_Ready…aim…fire!_" and a _thunk_ as something hit the other side of the fence. The crowd cheered. There were a nervous few moments between the impact of the arrow and the announcement of the score.

"_Player: zero points. Computer: four points. There are two shots remaining._"

"_Yes!_" Bob's winning!" Enzo jumped for joy and emitted a loud whoop.

"Galatea…Is something wrong?" he heard his older self say. Puzzled, Enzo turned to look in his direction. Matrix was sitting up against the side of the audience box (against Bob's advice) and looking at Galatea with a concerned expression.

"_Nock your arrows._" Enzo heard the announcer's voice on the other side of the fence.

Galatea was breathing hard, as if she had just run a great distance. She staggered backwards into the fence and leaned against it. Enzo noticed that she was shaking. And something else, too. He felt his stomach freeze.

"Something's wrong with your icon!"

"_Prepare to shoot…_"


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Final Charge

"_Ready…aim…fire_!" Bob and the User let their arrows fly a second time. The User hit the bull's-eye on its target this time, and Bob hit the blue ring on his. The spectators roared their approval. "_Player: five points. Computer: seven points. There is one shot remaining._" So the User's first shot had probably been a fluke. That was _not_ good. All the confidence Bob had gained after his first shot left him.

"_Nock your arrows…_"

Galatea's icon was sparking and flickering, shifting back and forth between a black-and-yellow Guardian icon and her original Game sprite icon. Enzo could smell scorched metal - he could also that armor around the malfunctioning icon was tarnished black.

"Change your icon!" Matrix insisted as he got to his feet, using the side of the audience box for support. Galatea heard him, and double-clicked her icon. It changed smoothly into Game sprite mode, and she herself seemed to feel better instantly. Matrix managed to walk to her, without wobbling too much. He helped her to stand up again.

"I seem to have bad luck with Games," Galatea observed. "What _was_ that?"

"I don't know," Matrix answered. "I've never seen that happen before. Changing it was the only thing I could think of."

"Are you okay now?" Enzo asked. Galatea nodded. She double-clicked her icon again, but nothing happened. She tried it again, with the same result. Her face drained of color, so that it became almost pure white.

"It appears to be stuck," she said in a quiet, toneless voice. They had told her about how Game sprite icons worked. She knew what was going to happen.

There were a few cycles of silence as it sank in. "Maybe…when Bob gets back, maybe he can fix it?" Enzo suggested. Behind him, Frisket made a whimpering noise.

Then they heard "_Nock your arrows…_" from the arena. They had missed the announcement of the score after the last shot.

"I suppose I should get ready for my turn. There is nothing else I can do," Galatea said gravely. She took a deep breath and walked over to Frisket. "Enzo," she said, "I will need help getting my helmet on." She didn't look panicked anymore. She looked utterly calm, but it was a cold, disquieting kind of calm. Enzo nodded silently and went to get her helmet from where he had put it down earlier.

"_Prepare to shoot…_"

"_Ready…aim…fire!_" The User and the Guardian made the last shot. Bob heard the arrow hit the target, far away, and then the cheering of the crowd accompanied by a fanfare. He looked at the User's target first. The arrow had hit the bull's-eye. Fearfully, as if the very act of looking would cause him to lose, he checked his own target.

"_Player: ten points. Computer: eleven points._" Bob had hit the red ring this time.

As the User and the archery setup vanished, Bob felt a great weight lift from his shoulders. He grinned widely as he loped across the arena to rejoin his friends. But he didn't get the jubilant greeting he had expected. From the looks on his friends' faces, he could tell that something was very wrong. Matrix pointed to Galatea, who was mounted on Frisket, fully equipped with shield and lance. Bob took in her icon and the blackened metal around it.

"Something went wrong with it," Matrix explained.

"It was hurting her, so she had to change it, but…" little Enzo continued.

"…I cannot change it back," Galatea finished.

"Maybe I can fix it," Bob said. He stood close to Frisket's side. Galatea leaned over a bit. Bob lifted the palm of his hand, holding it a few nanometers from her icon. He closed his eyes and tried to scan it. It seemed fine at first, but after he checked again he perceived that the code in the icon had…well, it had gotten tangled up somehow.

"_The final event shall be…jousting! Combatants, enter the field!_" Bob gritted his teeth. He could fix this, he just needed a little more time…

He heard hoof-beats behind him — probably the User's knight entering the arena. Frisket whimpered. _No. Don't let yourself get distracted. Concentrate on fixing the code._ He began untangling the strands of code, but he couldn't do it fast enough.

"_If the opposing knight does not enter in the next minute, the match is forfeit._" The crowd of Game sprites was booing.

"Bob," Galatea said. "There is no time. I must go."

"I can fix it if…" Bob protested.

"We cannot afford to lose!" Galatea said forcefully. With her left hand, she closed her visor, then took Frisket's reins and drove him towards the arena. Bob lost contact with her code

"Wait!" Enzo cried. Galatea stopped, lifted her visor again and turned to look at him. "I'm going to miss you," he said. "Be careful."

"I will return," she assured them. "I promise." She looked over them again. "I could not ask for better friends than you."

"_If the opposing knight does not enter in the next thirty seconds, the match is forfeit._"

She exchanged a glance with Matrix, who nodded to her silently. Then she turned to Bob and raised her lance in a salute. Bob returned her salute with his bow and as brave a smile as he could manage. Galatea smiled, lowered her visor, and guided Frisket into the arena at a canter. The audience let forth a thunderous cheer.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but Bob thought they were cheering louder this time than they ever had before.

"Now it is up to us," Galatea said to Frisket as he trotted toward the center of the arena. Frisket tossed his head in answer. This was not, Matrix had told her, the first time that Frisket had been a horse. Nor even the second. He knew how to respond to a pull on the reins or a jab in the flanks. And because he was a lot more intelligent than the average Game horse, Galatea had an advantage.

As they came close to the center of the arena, where the User was already waiting to salute the King, Galatea spoke to Frisket again. "I will not be able to hold the reins once the actual jousting starts. We are going to charge straight at the User. But when I give the signal, change direction so that we will pass to the right of him. Our right, not his. Understand?" Frisket moved his head up and down in a nod. "Good," Galatea said.

Frisket stopped to the right of the User. Galatea looked over her opponent — he was bigger than she was, his tabard and kite-shaped shield each bearing his coat of arms. His horse, a great black-haired beast, was caprisoned in his colors as well. He lifted his lance and saluted the King. Galatea did the same.

"_Take your positions,_" the announcer instructed. The User wheeled his horse around and headed toward the open end of the arena, where Galatea's friends were standing. Frisket made a noise that Galatea supposed to be a growl. She felt like growling herself; she hated the User intensely already, and being denied a last opportunity to bid her comrades farewell was the last straw!

She (gently) kicked Frisket into a trot. When he was close enough to the royal box she turned him around. The User was waiting at the other end of the arena, lance and shield at the ready. Galatea got herself ready as well. Matrix and Enzo were waving to her (actually, Enzo was alternating between waving and making faces at the User). She could just see Bob giving her the "thumbs up" sign. Behind her visor, she smiled to herself.

"_Ready…CHARGE!_" The order came, and Frisket began to move forward of his own accord, building up speed. The User's charger was moving too. Galatea narrowed her eyes and made the User the focus of her attention.

As she came closer and closer to the User, she found herself wondering if there was a face behind his visor. She felt that, were she to lift it, she would find nothing but empty air.

They were only a stone's throw away from each other now, and getting closer. Galatea moved her gaze away from the User's helm and toward a point just between his shield and his horse's neck.

_Wait for it…not yet…_ She bit her lower lip. Time, for her, was moving both too slowly and too quickly. She hoped that Frisket wouldn't turn before she gave the signal…

They were within range of each other. Galatea leaned to the right and the User's lance missed her by a handspan. At the same time, she felt her own lance shatter as the tip of it hit the User's armor. "_Now!_" she cried, and Frisket turned.

She heard the sound of something very heavy hitting the dirt, and then a wave of noise hit her. The audience was giving her a standing ovation, to the accompaniment of trumpets. Bob, Matrix and Enzo were shouting too, but they were drowned out by the cheering of the crowds.

Frisket slowed to a halt, and Galatea swung out of the saddle. She raised her visor and looked back at the royal box, whose occupants were applauding, and the User, who was sprawled on the ground. The air began to feel heavy. Her skin was tingling beneath her armor. The Game was about to end.

She patted Frisket on the neck and thanked him for his help. Then she waved to her friends on the sidelines. "Farewell! Until we meet again," she called, although they were probably unable to hear her.

"_Game over,_" the system voice said. Galatea's surroundings faded into a wall of crackling purple energy. The equipment the Game had given her disappeared as well. Now, she was on her own.

AndrAIa and Mouse had told her about traveling with Games. When this one reached the next system, she could perhaps find someone to take her icon and initialize a backup of herself when the Game left. She would be deleted when the Game reset, but then the backup would, for all intents and purposes, be _her_.

Then, somehow or other, she would keep her promise. No matter what it took.

END FILE


	13. Easter Eggs and Further Acknowledgements

The setting for this story, and most of the characters therein, are based on the CGI cartoon series _ReBoot, _copyright Mainframe Entertainment, Inc. I confess that I didn't ask their permission first, but I hope they will be understanding about it — this work was a labor of love, and I am giving credit to the giants upon whose shoulders I stand, so to speak.

The Games in this story are the product of my own imagination. If they resemble any existing Games, then the similarity between them is fully accidental.

My friend Val coined the term "datoid," and the term ".BAT" as it was used in this story was first used in that context by Slack of Slack and Hash's Domain.

If you want to reprint this story in full or in part, please e-mail me to ask permission first. Chances are, I will say yes.

Easter eggs/ literary references;

Some of the exchanges between Hack and Slash are lifted from Samuel Beckett's play _Waiting for Godot_.

"God's Thumbs" is an expression used by Catherine in _Catherine, Called Birdy,_ by Karen Cushman

The type of wrestling practiced in the tourney Game is a medieval variety I read about in _Queen's Play,_ by Dorothy Dunnett. The book is part of a historical fiction series called _The Lymond Chronicles._

I think that covers just about everything. Hope you enjoyed the story—I'm going to be writing a sequel some time in the not-too-distant future. Stay frosty!


End file.
